


Masks

by Mutive



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-05
Updated: 2011-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 02:50:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mutive/pseuds/Mutive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has been a lady's companion, a bard, a chantry sister, and a hero. Now Leliana is forced to examine her life under the interrogation of Cassandra, to determine who she truly is beneath all the roles she has played.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

"You have been a bard, a chantry sister, and a companion to the Hero of Ferelden," Cassandra said, as she paced about the small room. "But who areyou?"

Leliana looked at Cassandra for several seconds, trying to gauge which answer she would prefer. She could be any of the three for her, or she could be something else entirely. But the last three weeks in Nevarra had given no hint as to the Seeker's motives, so instead she said, "I don't know."

"An honest answer," Cassandra said, surprising Leliana. She had thought that the Seekers demanded surety.

"I am trying to be honest." Leliana had promised that she would do her best, this time. She would try to be what the Chantry wanted, in word as well as in deed. She just needed to know what it was they wanted, a task that was proving more difficult than any she'd had before.

"Trying is insufficient," Cassandra said, stepping closer to where Leliana sat. "You must bare you soul before the eyes of the Maker. This is the purpose of the examen. The Seekers require nothing more from you, and we will accept nothing less."

Leliana had been told that this was the purpose of the examen, but people always exaggerated, no? She had thought that once you stripped away the fancy language, an examen would prove to be no more than a particularly long confession. And confessions were simple; you said the correct prayer before rattling off a list of Chantry-approved sins. Before long, you'd have a blessing and a penance.

She waited for Cassandra to continue for a minute, while they both stared at each other and she fought the urge to fidget. Eventually she asked, "What do you want me to tell you?" She had confessed recently, so those deeds were clean from her soul. Even if she had not, she suspected that Cassandra would not be overly interested in her most recent sins. They were mild, for there was only so much one could do in a convent. "You already know about me. You know what I've done, and probably half of what I've failed to do. What more is there to say?"

"Everything," Cassandra said. Her thin lips curved in a smile. "We must know all."

"Everything about what?" Leliana asked. She wasn't sure she understood. "About my life?" When Cassandra nodded, she became only more confused. She had no idea what advantage there would be in knowing about her life, at least beyond those elements that Cassandra had already investigated. "Telling you everything about my life could take nearly as long as living it," Leliana said. But rather than withdraw her request, Cassandra merely smiled.

"Our lives are no more than a blink in the eye of the Maker," Cassandra said. She clasped her hands before her. "I have time."

Leliana nodded. Most of her life had been rather dull, but she supposed she could elaborate or skip over the boring parts. "Well, I was born to a Fereldan woman who had escaped with her Orlesian mistress after the rebellion. She became pregnant out of wedlock, and her mistress, Lady Cecile, was kind enough not to cast her aside. My mother died when I was still young, and the Lady Cecile raised me to be her friend and companion."

Cassandra nodded. "Continue," she said.

Leliana closed her eyes, recalling her childhood. She had adored Lady Cecile, who had paid for her upbringing, and treated her as though she was her own daughter, despite that she was the offspring of a disgraced servant. "I stayed with Lady Cecile until she died, then worked as a minstrel for a time to support myself. Eventually I met Marjolaine, and was taught by her to become a bard."

She opened her eyes to find that Cassandra had moved. She was now standing very close to Leliana, her eyes fixed on her. "Why did you become a bard?" she asked.

There were so many reasons, and they were far too complicated to explain, so Leliana said, "I thought it would be fun." Cassandra scowled at her over that, so Leliana continued quickly with, "And it was for a time! It's such a glamorous lifestyle. There are music and parties and shoes! Oh, how I loved the shoes. There were such darling satin heels, with little blue bows and ribbons that trailed-"

"Bullshit," Cassandra said, stepping closer. "You did not become a bard for the shoes."

No, she had not. But she did not know that she wished to admit why she had chosen such a risky and disreputable profession. "The shoes were very cute," Leliana said. She gave a smile, hoping it would convince Cassandra to back down.

It did. Cassandra withdrew and her figure relaxed. She drew a stool from the corner and moved it so that she could sit near Leliana, at a level where they were eye to eye. She took Leliana's hand in her own and held it. "Leliana," she said. "We are trying to help. But we cannot if you will not be honest with us."

Leliana watched her for a long second and nodded. She drew a deep breath, and realized that she felt shaky. It had been so long since she had let herself think about her motives. The past was the past, and what bearing it had on the future came from her past actions, not her intentions. "Why does it matter?" she asked.

"It is the goal of the Seekers to shine the light of knowledge into the darkness of secrets and ignorance," Cassandra said. Her fingers stroked Leliana's. "How can we heal your wounds if we do not know where you hurt?"

Leliana closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. There were so many things she hated to recall, but she had an easier time explaining why she had become a bard than so many other facets of her life. At last she admitted, "I didn't become a bard for the shoes." The next words were harder, but she made herself say them. "I did it because I needed the money."

Cassandra squeezed her hand. "That was not so hard, was it?"

It was harder than talking about shoes, but less difficult to tell Cassandra about than what would come next. She nodded, and continued with her story.


	2. The Companion

"How did you meet Marjolaine?" Cassandra asked. She had returned to pacing the narrow cell. "Was it at a bar? A club? Did you seek her out?"

"Nothing so exciting," Leliana said. If she were allowed to elaborate, she would have come up with a daring tale. The truth was nowhere near so glamorous. "I met her at a lady's salon. I was there trying to find a new patron, after the death of Lady Cecile."

"Tell me about it," Cassandra said. "Omit no detail."

And so Leliana did.

DA:O

"You play so sweetly," Lady Sophie said, as she gave Leliana a doting smile.

Leliana held her breath, waiting for her to say more. It was not polite for a young lady to suggest things to her betters, but after a long second where the two just stared at each other, Leliana summoned her courage and said, "Thank you," before adding, "I do love to perform, and it would be wonderful to have the chance to perfect my art for someone as knowledgeable as yourself."

Lady Sophie nearly jumped back in alarm at her brazen words. "Oh, my," she said, fanning herself as though Leliana's words were as shocking as learning about a beloved pet's untimely death. "I would, but…" she leaned in to whisper close. "Finances."

However strained Sophie's were, Leliana doubted that they were near as dire as her own. But she smiled in what she hoped was a charming manner and said, "Of course," trying her best to not look too disappointed. There were dozens of wealthy ladies at this salon, and surely one of them was eager for a minstrel, a companion, or a confident.

Leliana's gaze shifted yet again to the dark haired woman sitting across the room from her. She was the only other girl anywhere near Leliana's age. But even if she had been as old as the rest of the women in this salon, she would have caught Leliana's eye. It was not just that she was wearing a peculiar gown, with a style that was somehow jauntier than that of the sweet and fussy ladies of this salon in a way Leliana could not quite place. It was in how she held herself. She could not describe it, despite that a minstrel's gift was one of words. But something about the other woman made Leliana wish that she would look at her. Even though she doubted that a woman who was as interesting as the other girl had any need to pay for entertainment.

She turned her attention back to another of the darling women who frequented the salons of Val Royeaux. She remembered Lady Marie from a different afternoon, so found her name more quickly than Lady Sophie's.

"Your voice is like that of an angel," Marie said, reaching out to pat Leliana as though she were her daughter. Leliana's heart seized for a moment as she thought that this might finally be the lady who took her in.

"Thank you," Leliana said, blushing without effort. She did love to be praised, even if it made her feel slightly ashamed of herself. Girls were not supposed to try to attract compliments or, really, any kind of attention.

"It is most deserved," Marie said. She paused for a long second, and Leliana wondered if she were considering extending her patronage. If Leliana did not have a patron soon, she did not know what she would do. She had already learned that work as a minstrel was not enough to pay her rent, even when she took in handwork on the side. Her slight inheritance from Lady Cecile had already dwindled to near nothing. If she did not find someone else to support her soon, well, well-bred ladies did not consider those possibilities. It was her job to find a new patron this afternoon, and so do it she would. Leliana was about to suggest this very possibility, when she considered how gauche she had felt around Lady Sophie, and held her tongue.

"I do try my best," Leliana said, feeling that the words were stale and colorless. "But I am glad that you approve." She watched Marie for several seconds, wondering if she should say something. After a moment, she decided that she would rather be uncomfortable than starve so she added, "I think that I could do even better, were I to have more time to study."

"Oh?" Marie asked. She looked confused. "You do not have enough time to study?"

Leliana smiled inwardly. This would not be so difficult. And Lady Marie was known to be financially well off, unlike Lady Sophie, who might or might not be in actual financial distress. "I do, but after Lady Cecile died…" The sad expression she gave was not hard to call to mind. Leliana greatly missed her former patron for reasons that went far beyond the livelihood that Lady Cecile had offered her.

"I see," Lady Marie said. She seemed to think, before she said. "It is possible that in a few months' time, I will have need of a new minstrel." She looked at Leliana in a way that made her think that she was considering each note that she had played that evening and comparing it against those of other performers. "But there are many candidates."

"Of course," Leliana said, feeling her heart fall further. There were always more than enough women in this town who were eager to earn their livelihood in any way they could. Some were undoubtedly far better at the lute than Leliana. Still, she ought to smile and be merry, for it was always possible that Lady Marie would choose her over the many others. "It would be an honor to be supported by someone with such sophisticated tastes."

Lady Marie smiled at this. "You are a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day," she said. "When I am in need of a minstrel, I will remember to look for your name." She patted Leliana on the shoulder, and continued on to the next person she wished to chat with.

The words were reassuring, true. But who knew how much longer it would be until Lady Marie needed a new minstrel? By that time, Leliana might have starved or…worse. She thought of the women she saw on the streets, their skirts raised a bit too high, their bodices worn a bit too low. At one time, she would have genteelly starved rather than done what they did for a day's bread. But as she came closer to starving, Leliana wondered if she truly had so much dignity that she would not resort to the same.

There was no one else interested in speaking with her, so Leliana began to pack her lute, just to find that the dark haired women had walked up to speak with her. She straightened her spine, holding her hands demurely at her side, just as Lady Cecile had taught her. The woman smiled, and moved in close.

"Have you ever been to the Chat Noir?" the woman asked, as she leaned in to give Leliana a kiss of greeting. Her breath rushed past Leliana's ear, warm and moist, and she could catch a hint of the scent the other woman was wearing. She withdrew just as quickly and smiled, catching her eye in a sidelong glance that promised adventures far more exciting than what might be found in this salon.

"N-no," Leliana said, shaking her head. She had heard of it, of course. But well-bred ladies did not venture near places like that. Or at least, that was what Lady Cecile had always told her, before she'd died.

"Would you like to go?" the woman asked. The offer was casual, as though it was a perfectly normal thing for a strange woman to walk up to another in a salon and offer to take her to the most infamous night club in Orlais. The oddity of the request was enough to make Leliana want to go just to learn why she was inviting her. Then again, curiosity led to temptation, according to the teachings of the Chantry, so Leliana shook her head.

"I need to stay here," Leliana said, although she felt stupid as she muttered the words. Something about the other woman made her feel like the child who sat at the bottom of a tree, afraid to climb up, while everyone else merrily swung from the highest branches.

"Are you sure?" the other woman asked. Her lips curved in a smile. "You could always join me later, once you are finished here."

"I shouldn't," Leliana said. She needed to stay here until she found a patron, despite that most of the ladies were already leaving the salon and she was no closer to having financial support than she had been when she'd arrived.

"You should," the other woman said, as her smile deepened. "Ask for me at the front door. My name is Marjolaine."

"I am pleased to meet you, Marjolaine," Leliana said. The name was pretty. Familiar, yet with a hint of the exotic. She leaned in to kiss Leliana on the cheek once more, in a kiss of farewell. Marjolaine's dark hair was soft against her neck, and she smelled faintly of a perfume that Leliana could not identify.

DA:O

"And so after this, you went to the Chat Noir?" Cassandra said. Her arms were crossed beneath her chest. "You met some strange woman and decided to do as she asked, without even thinking of the consequences?" She seemed cross. Leliana imagined that she was trying to determine what the Divine had seen in her to recommend her to the Seekers. Sometimes she wondered herself.

"I did go to the Chat Noir," Leliana said. She glanced down at her fingers. "But not to become a bard. It was more complicated than that."

"What do you mean?" Cassandra asked. Leliana imagined that Cassandra was more used to situations that could be solved by a sword than negotiated by pretty words. It would be hard to make her understand, but Leliana did her best to explain.

DA:O

Leliana picked her way back to her apartment. The world changed about her as she walked, from a land of manicured lawns and fancifully trimmed hedges, to her new neighborhood, where half the cobbles on the street were missing, and garbage filled the gutters. It was not ideal, but rents were cheap and required tenancies short.

She stepped over a sleeping man, who she hoped was an itinerant worker from a far off farm, before climbing the narrow stair that lead to her apartment. She saw a note on the door, and picked it up before letting herself inside. Leliana hated to be outside for longer than necessary in this neighborhood. Just yesterday, she had narrowly missed being accosted by a young man who seemed under the impression that she was one of the many ladies who could be purchased for a few bits of silver. He had been more than a bit displeased when she had refused his suit, and Leliana felt lucky to have escaped with just a bit of a scare. She fastened the bolt behind her, and put her things on the ground before lighting a precious candle and reading what the note said.

It read, "We regret to inform you that your rent is overdue. If it is not paid in full in three days, we will begin the eviction process."

Leliana knew that she was a bit behind with her rent, but had expected to have the funds soon. Still, she would not have enough in three days. At least not if she were also to have enough to eat this month and to have the monies she needed to frequent the last few salons she had intended to ply her trade at. She needed to attend those if she was to have any hope of patronage.

She crumpled the note in her hand, trying to think of a solution. She supposed that she could hold out for three days; perhaps by then, she would have secured a patron. Or perhaps she could find a bit of day work, which might pay enough to make rent. Or, she thought as she looked out of a tiny window at the street below, she could do as the other women in her neighborhood did and find a more lucrative means of earning a living than sewing.

It was not what she wanted, but what other choice did she have? She was half gone in self-pity when Marjolaine's offer came to mind. If she were to have to take on a patron of a different kind than she was accustomed to, she would prefer him to be wealthy and sophisticated rather than dirty and boorish. She had heard that women could find such men at places like the Chat Noir. She might choose not to take this option, if it did not present itself. But it might benefit her to at least consider it. Besides, if she was going to ruin her virtue, she might as well do it with style. Leliana opened her closet, and picked out her loveliest gown, hoping that it would be dashing enough to catch the eye of someone as interested in the beauty of her body as that of her voice.

DA:O

Marjolaine's name got her admitted to the Chat Noir, and the club was everything Leliana had been warned of. Women danced by, their bodices worn so tight that they must have been sewn into them. It was hard to keep from staring at them. Their clothing was bright, their figures lean, and the bits of their faces that Leliana could observe from behind their masks were merry. They might not be reputable ladies, but they were certainly a step up from the tired, worn out women Leliana passed as she made her way home.

Leliana did not know where Marjolaine was likely to be in this crowd, so she pushed her way through it, determined to find her new friend. She only stopped when she heard the music, and lifted her head to see that several women stood on a stage, their skirts frothy about their ankles as they kicked up their heels to reveal their lacy drawers beneath their petticoats. Leliana could be wrong, but she suspected that she could see their bare flesh whenever they kicked high enough.

It was fascinating. Leliana did not know whether it was the scandal, the bright sound of the music, or the near hypnotic sway of the skirts, but she found it hard to look away. She was watching the show so intently that she did not realize Marjolaine was beside her until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"So you decided to make an appearance," Marjolaine said, lowering the mask she wore. Leliana felt both under exposed and over exposed in this place. She was wearing far more clothing than any other lady, and yet her face was bare. Still, she ought to make the best of things, so she turned to give Marjolaine a kiss of greeting. When the other woman withdrew, she asked, "Which do you fancy?" as Marjolaine's eyes scanned the row of dancers.

"Fancy?" Leliana asked. Did she mean which dress did she prefer, or which hairstyle? Then suddenly she realized what Marjolaine meant, and it was all she could do to avoid passing out from humiliation right there.

Marjolaine only laughed at her distress, lowering her mask to wink at Leliana. "You are such an innocent," she said, brushing a strand of hair from Leliana's face. "But I have a cure for that." She took Leliana's hand and led her through the crowd. "Come," she said. "I have a table. And a business proposition that I would like to discuss."

Leliana followed her to a balcony that over looked the stage, yet was discreetly hidden by curtains. A bottle of champagne stood on the table, and Marjolaine poured both herself and Leliana a glass before sitting on a plush couch that sat facing the stage. She patted on the cushion next to her, beckoning to Leliana to join her. She handed Leliana a flute of champagne, and Leliana downed it in little more than a swallow.

A second glass was poured, and Leliana was temperate enough to sip this one as she watched the dancers. The show seemed to go on and on, in a way that was neither notable nor dull. She supposed that it might be the champagne. No matter how she sipped at her flute, the level never seemed to diminish, even as one bottle replaced the last, carried back and forth by unobtrusive servants. At last, an intermission came, and Marjolaine spoke to her.

"A pretty girl such as you is wasted like this," Marjolaine said. She leaned over Leliana to pour herself yet another flute of champagne, and then refilled Leliana's to the brim. Leliana took another sip; the bubbles tickled her lips.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Her thoughts were slowing and blurring, so while she felt foolish that she did not understand, she did not care so much, either, as another night she might have grasped what Marjolaine meant.

"You're wasted as a companion to some doddering old lady," Marjolaine said. She gestured at the scene playing out beneath them, the wave of her hand encompassing the dozens of women in bright bodices that revealed more than they concealed and voluminous skirts that were the height of fashion. "Now look at all this. Do you think that I earn enough entertain in style by reading novels and playing the lute?"

Leliana hadn't stopped to think where Marjolaine had found a way to pay for this. She had just accepted. But now that she let herself consider her circumstances, she did wonder. A bubble of fear rose through her spine, as she considered that she might have to pay Marjolaine back for all she had seen and drunk, and she had no idea how she might do that. But the fear was mostly smothered by the wine, while the champagne teased out the hope that Marjolaine might have the cure to all of her financial difficulties. She took another sip of her drink, giggling as the bubbles tickled her lips.

Marjolaine continued, "I got to where I am by taking risks." Her eyes met Leliana's and her lips curved upwards, in a way that made Leliana think the smile was shared only by the two of them. She leaned over, so close that only Leliana could hear her speak. "You could too, if you're not afraid."

Leliana shook her head. She did not want to admit to fear around her new friend, and the rush of the alcohol made worries dim memories that were soon forgotten. "I'm not," she whispered back. Or at the very least, she was no more afraid of what Marjolaine offered than the threat of the streets.

Marjolaine drew her closer. "I'm a bard," she said. When Leliana drew back and tried to speak, she put a finger to her lips. "Don't act so shocked," she said. "Where else would a girl like me earn enough to drink champagne?"

"I...I don't know," Leliana said. Truly she did not. She knew she played the lute well, yet knew she would never be able to afford a night like tonight. She had assumed that Marjolaine had a wealthy patron. But even she was not so naïve as to believe that wealthy patrons never demanded more than song from their minstrels.

"It's a wonderful lifestyle," Marjolaine said. Her eyes met Leliana's. "You entertain the richest and most exciting of clients. You're given magnificent gifts. And best of all, you learn the play the game."

"The game?" Leliana said, feeling yet again like she had missed something of importance. Not that it would be hard to miss something, considering how much noise filled this place. "What game?"

"The great game of politics," Marjolaine said. She sat back on the couch and crossed one leg over the other. "It is far more fun to participate than it is to sit back and watch, don't you think?"

Leliana did not know. She had rarely participated in anything more arduous than a spelling bee. But as she watched the dancers below gyrate in perfect timing with the music, she knew that she did not wish to be left out of things any longer. Not after being so alone since Cecile's death. Still, she had to ask, "Isn't it dangerous?"

Marjolaine turned towards her, and put a hand on her shoulder, brushing just past the line of her dress to touch Leliana's bare skin. "Everything is dangerous," she said. Her lips curved in a smile. "You could be killed in the street walking home one night. It is what keeps the game exciting. Besides," she leaned over to refill both of their glasses. "Wouldn't you rather live a short life that was full of nights like tonight, than a long one where all you do is sit and sew and serve as some merchant's whore?"

Being a merchant's whore was far preferable to that of the fate of the women who plied their trade by Leliana's apartment. But she could only nod and hope that Marjolaine understood.

"If you play the game well enough," Marjolaine said, leaning close enough to Leliana that her face was the only thing she could see. "You need not fear." She backed away just an inch and took a drink from her glass. "And I will teach you to play the game better than anyone."

It was tempting. Too tempting, really. "Why would you teach me?" Leliana asked. She was just a girl; she was no one special.

"Two can work better than one," Marjolaine said. She leaned back into the cushions. "And you're pretty enough to attract attention, while innocent looking enough that no one would suspect you. It makes you perfect for the role." She turned just her head towards Leliana, their eyes meeting. "Although if you're scared, I can always find someone else." There were always other women in desperate circumstances.

Leliana did not want to be afraid all her life, and she had no better options. Besides, there was something about Marjolaine that made Leliana think that she could trust her. "I'll do it," she said, after a few moments thought. A year ago, Leliana would have slept on the decision. Cecile had counseled her to never consent in haste. But Leliana decided that it was time to choose her own way, after years of following others.

DA:O

"I see," Cassandra said. She paced the small room, turning every few words. "So this Marjolaine agreed to instruct you. Did you know what she meant by this?"

Leliana shook her head, trying to clear the story from her mind. Tendrils of her tale clung to her like the incense that blanketed the room. "Not at first," she said. "I did in time. But that night, I was just glad that I had a way to make some coin. I was very grateful."

"How grateful?" Cassandra asked. Her lips downturned.

It would be best to get this over with, Leliana decided. "I became her lover that night."

DA:O

"Is this unpleasant for you?" Marjolaine asked. She withdrew her hand from where it was lightly caressing Leliana's thigh and sat up.

"N-no," Leliana said. It was quite pleasant in fact. It was just that she'd never done something like this before with anyone, far less with a woman.

"Then why do you tense?" Marjolaine asked. Her lips pursed in a pretty pout. "It hurts my feelings that you act this way."

Leliana drew a deep breath, but she had been given enough to drink that she could admit to things that she usually barely dared to think about. "It's just that I've never done something like this before."

Marjolaine laughed, and the sound was surprisingly sweet. "You will need to learn," she said. "There is no better way to gain information than from the pillow talk of lovers."

"You wish to gain information from me?" Leliana said, feeling slow and foolish yet again.

Marjolaine shook her dark head. "No," she said. "I wish to show you what it is like to experience pleasure. So that someday you may use these skills on others." Her hand drifted back to between Leliana's thighs, her delicate finger tips brushing against the cloth of her smalls. "You will need to become as skilled in these arts as I. If not more so."

Leliana gasped, as her fingertips brushed a particularly sensitive spot. She whimpered again, as a finger pushed against her through the thin linen of her drawers, circling and tantalizing by its proximity to places that would give far more pleasure.

"You'll teach me?" she asked. Not so much because she doubted Marjolaine's intent, but more in that she wanted something to say to distract her from the intensity of sensation that the other woman's finger was causing.

"Of course," Marjolaine said. Her lips curved in a smile, before she hooked her fingers through Leliana's smalls, and pulled them off her legs. A second later, she was kneeling between Leliana's legs. She was about to ask when Marjolaine was doing, when she saw the other woman lean down, and a second later felt her moist lips against the folds of her sex.

Just that she was here and doing this made things strange enough that Leliana felt completely divorced from the world she used to be a part of. The girl who had been the pampered pet of Lady Cecile was not, could not, be the same one who lay in this silk curtained bed, with her legs thrown open like a common whore's. It was possible that she should feel ashamed. But this odd freedom from her former life, combined with the sensations that Marjolaine was causing with her tongue, then her slim, dextrous fingers, was enough to banish all thoughts from Leliana's mind. The person enjoying the feelings that flooded through her was not the same as the one who had read poetry to Cecile. The woman who whimpered as a finger pushed into her, curving against a particularly sensitive spot, was not the same one who had attended Chantry services just a day ago. If she was a different person, then she could allow herself to forget who she had been, and enjoy who she was. Leliana let herself relax against Marjolaine's dexterous fingers and clever tongue, realizing that if she was not who she had been, she did not need to feel ashamed of what she was becoming.

Leliana whimpered as a tension built within her, able to forget whatever might be worrying her as her mind focused on the sensations Marjolaine was causing to bubble through her. The tension crested then unfurled within her, as her consciousness shattered and blew away, like the tuft of a dandelion in a spring breeze. Leliana heard herself cry out as she arched off the bed, every muscle holding tight for a long minute, before blissful contractions pulsed through her, and she was able to relax into the soft sheets. It took several moments longer for her breathing to slow, and her mind to return enough that that she could even realize what she had just done. She felt Marjolaine crawl up next to her, and kiss her on the lips, holding her close and whispering endearments.

"Ah, I thought you might enjoy," Marjolaine said. She drew back, and left Leliana alone far too soon. It felt as though she had been teased, but not quite fulfilled. As though Marjolaine had offered her an appetizer, rather than the main course. "But you still have much to learn."

Provided she learned in the arms of Marjolaine, Leliana did not mind that it would take her time to fully master these arts. She reached for the other woman, and smiled as Marjolaine let her draw her into her arms.


	3. The Ministrel

"So after this...party...you joined Marjolaine?" Cassandra asked. Her eyes narrowed, although Leliana was uncertain as to whether it was in disapproval or in thought.

"I had nowhere else to go," Leliana said. She drew a breath. The incense burned her lungs and made her eyes water. "I was about to be evicted from my home, and I had very little money. There were no other options."

Cassandra was as unrelenting as ever. "One always has options. You could have turned to the Chantry for help."

She could have, but Leliana had seen the wards in Orlais. While sisters from wealthy families paid a dowry to the Chantry, and lived with all the little luxuries they were accustomed to, the poor huddled in shelters that were barely fit for beasts. "I wasn't accustomed to that life," Leliana said. She looked away from Cassandra, at the stone floor. "Besides, I didn't really consider it. I wanted to support myself in some way, and didn't know that I had the right temperament for a religious life."

Cassandra seemed to think about that. "What changed?" she asked, before she shook her head. "No," she said. "We'll get to that part later." She opened the door to the cell walked out, returning a few minutes later with a pot of tea. She poured a glass for herself and one for Leliana before returning to the stool to sit. She focused on Leliana, their faces now level. "So you joined Marjolaine and chose to be trained as a bard. What did she teach you?"

Leliana took a drink of the tea. I was soothing, and helped to dull the roughness the incense had created in the back of her throat. "I already knew how to sing and dance, to read and write, to sew and to tell a tale. Lady Cecile taught me these things. It is what all lady's companions know. But bards need skills beyond these. Marjolaine taught me to pick a lock or a pocket, to pretend to be someone the same way an actress performs in a play, and beyond that, she taught me to kill."

"You mean that she trained you in weapons?" Cassandra asked. She looked into her cup and took a sip. "I have heard you are proficient with daggers and a bow."

"I can also fight unarmed," Leliana said, as she was certain Cassandra knew this. "But yes, she taught me these things. But more than that, she taught me to kill. There is a difference, you see, between fighting and killing." She took a deep breath. "Marjolaine taught me both."

Cassandra's face tightened, and whatever sympathy she had felt for Leliana seemed to shatter. "When you joined Marjolaine, did you know that you would become a killer?"

Leliana shook her head. "Oh no!" she said. Cassandra's gaze softened at that, so Leliana took another drink of her tea and continued with her story.

DA:O

Learning to fight was like learning to dance, and Marjolaine was a far more charming instructor than Leliana's old dance mistress.

"Likely you will never need these skills," Marjolaine said. Her hands were on Leliana's body, correcting her movements. She had stopped flushing at the other woman's touch. Still, it was not hard for her mind to drift to the thought of Marjolaine's hands on her bare skin as she guided her through the form. During their evenings together, Marjolaine had taught her things that would make a whore blush. But Leliana thought that it was not wrong to do them, so long as she did them with the woman she loved. "But a bard needs to be able to defend herself in case things go awry."

"Do things often go awry?" Leliana asked. She performed the motion again, precisely as Marjolaine had told her, and this time thought that she had gotten it correct.

"Not if the bard is careful," Marjolaine said, stepping back. "But mistakes happen. You must be prepared for that eventuality."

Leliana nodded, although she was afraid of the eventualities that Marjolaine spoke of. Even the idea of poking about her patron's estates for secrets was enough to make her breath speed. The idea of actually killing another person made her feel faintly ill.

Marjolaine must have noticed her pause in her routine, for she said, "We do not have to resort to such measures often," she said. "Only a poor bard must fight her way out of a situation. We work best when no one knows our true identity. For who would trust a bard with her secrets?" She stepped closer to Leliana and took her face in her hands. "But the ability to kill is a skill bards must have. And if you need to defend yourself, you will be glad you learned to do so, no?"

Leliana nodded. She would have been less frightened when she lived in the slums if she'd known she could fight. These skills would be as useful as any of the others Marjolaine tried to teach her.

"There we have it," Marjolaine said. She smiled and gave Leliana a kiss on her lips. "Now finish learning the form and come inside. I have a matter I need to discuss with you."

DA:O

"I suppose that the matter was your first assignment," Cassandra said. She arched a dark brow. "Did you kill for her then?"

Leliana shook her head. "No," she said. She glanced down at her hands. "I did not kill for a long time. I think that, had I known what it meant to be a bard at first, I never would have agreed." She shifted to a position on her seat where she was more comfortable. "Marjolaine gave me the impression that I would only need to kill in self-defense. We were spies, true, but we were not assassins. It was only once I was committed that I realized what being a bard truly meant."

Cassandra nodded. She took another drink of her tea. "What was your first assignment like?"

Leliana smiled. She had been so naive then, so foolishly ignorant. "It was very simple. All that I had to do was to keep a client busy for Marjolaine."

"Why did she need this client occupied?" Cassandra asked.

"I don't know," Leliana said. She drew a deep breath, letting the smoke from the incense burner in the corner fill her lungs. "I was often told nothing about my assignment other than the task I was to accomplish. I usually had no idea what was inside the boxes that I carried, or the letters that I retrieved. I am not sure that even Marjolaine knew the reasons for doing what we were asked to do. The less you know, the less you can reveal under questioning or torture, no?"

Cassandra nodded. "It is solid reasoning. Only a general needs to know the strategy for a war. A solider is merely asked to obey." Leliana recalled that the Seekers were considered the soldiers of the Maker, despite that their war was for souls rather than territory or possession. She wondered what war Cassandra fought, and precisely what position the Divine had in mind for her. She watched Cassandra for several seconds before the Seeker said, "Tell me about the first assignment."

DA:O

"It will be easy," Marjolaine promised, as she put the bread and cheese on the table for their lunch. There was not much of either. She had warned Leliana about gaining weight and spoiling her good looks, and kept her own figure neatly trim. "You merely need to keep the lady entertained until I'm done."

"How long will that be? And how?" Leliana asked, taking a bite of the bread and cheese that were set before her. Marjolaine might entertain in style, but living with her was decidedly less glamorous.

"About two hours. More if you can. It should be easy," Marjolaine said. She took a sip of tea from her mug. "You can sing, can't you?"

Leliana was surprised she'd forgotten, considering how they'd met. "Of course," she said. She could play the lute as well, although she hesitated to remind Marjolaine.

"Good," Marjolaine said between bites. "I booked you as a minstrel. But she'll want more, I'm sure. They always do."

"I was trained to be a lady's companion," Leliana said, confident that she could talk about almost any subject the lady desired for as many hours as were necessary.

Marjolaine laughed. "You may be called upon to do a different type of entertaining," she said, before returning to her meal. "But everyone has a first time. And she likes them young and sweet. You'll do."

"What do you mean?" Leliana asked, although she was beginning to feel a blush spread as she realized exactly what Marjolaine meant.

"You'll see," Marjolaine said. She smirked at Leliana, her red lips in a charming bow. "Just keep her entertained for two hours. In whatever way you can. How you do it doesn't matter in the least to me."

"I'll sing to her," Leliana said, quite convinced that this would be all that it would take to please the lady. She could keep anyone entertained for that long with her voice alone.

"I'm sure you will," Marjolaine said, smiling at some humor that Leliana could not quite understand. "After all, you have such a lovely voice."

DA:O

"I've heard enough," Lady Jean said, half way through Leliana's third song.

"I could try something else," Leliana said, although she did not know what she would try. Lady Jean had fidgeted through each of her songs, despite that they had all been quite different. She had sung of tragic love, then of heroic adventure, and when both had failed to please, she had resorted to a bawdy drinking song.

"No, no," Lady Jean said. "I do not feel interested in music today. You are dismissed."

Leliana froze. She needed to keep entertained for at least another hour, and hoped to keep her busy for more, just in case. If she let Lady Jean dismiss her now, she would find Marjolaine, and Leliana did not think there would be any satisfactory outcome to such a situation.

"Perhaps I could try just one more?" Leliana asked. She was sure she could think of something that would please Lady Jean, if she had time to do so.

"No, no," Jean said, waving the suggestion away with a languid hand. "I've had enough of that kind of entertainment. Unless you can suggest something more appealing than yet another song, I will retire for the evening."

Leliana's mind sped. She did not wish to debase herself by doing something lewd, but she could not let Marjolaine be caught, either. She decided that she would stall for time. Perhaps she could amuse Jean with talk until Marjolaine had a chance to leave, then escape before she did anything inappropriate. She sat on the over-stuffed sofa next to Lady Jean, close enough to be friendly, but not so close that it felt intimate.

"I am not sure what you mean by something more appealing," Leliana said, letting herself glance down and blush. It was a natural expression, and even if it were not, Marjolaine had said that mentioned that Jean liked young, innocent girls, so she doubted that she'd mind. "But if you can suggest something, I would be glad to do it. I do not wish to displease you."

Lady Jean chucked at that, her low voice rasping at the back of her throat. Leliana felt one of her hands brush her arm. "Marjolaine was right," she said. Leliana turned to look up at her through her eye lashes. "You are such a sweet thing. I should be careful that tasting you does not cause me to gain weight."

"You carry it well," Leliana said, for she did. Jean was not a slender woman, but she had a slender waist despite her generous swell of breast and hip. "I have always hated being so thin. Lady Cecile used to tell me that I looked about to blow away in a strong wind, and that people must think that she was trying to starve me. I would far prefer to look like you."

The words were flattery, but there was some truth to them, as there were in all the best lies. Jean smiled at this and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "I will admit to an enjoyment of all the pleasures of the flesh," she said. Her lips brushed against Leliana's skin, and Leliana almost had to bite on her lip to keep from laughing. There was something so ridiculous about having a woman she'd never even met try to seduce her in such a cliché way. It was like something out of a bad morality play.

But she could play the role of the ingénue who was seduced, at least if that's what it took to save Marjolaine. "I am afraid that I don't know much about those pleasures," Leliana admitted. She relaxed into Lady Jean's hand, and hoped that the way she moved made her seem innocent and eager. If she focused on what she had to do, she would not have to think about how her actions were barely better than those of the whores she saw working the streets.

"I would not mind teaching you," Jean said. She moved in closer, to kiss Leliana on the cheek, and Leliana froze, trying to think of what she should do or say next. Jean must have noticed that something was amiss, for she sat up and withdrew. "Why, you look as frightened as a little bird that's gotten itself caught in a room," she said. She clapped her hands twice, and a maid entered from a side door. She ordered a bottle of wine and said, "If I am to teach you about my sophisticated tastes, I might as well start properly."

Leliana nodded, and wondered how much time she could consume drinking wine. Would it be long enough to allow Marjolaine to escape? Or would she have to find further entertainments for Lady Jean? She made small talk until the servant returned and poured her a generous glass. She gulped it down fast enough that she barely tasted it.

"You are such an innocent," Jean said, laughing as she sipped at her wine. "Don't drink so much that you become sloppy."

She would not, as Leliana did not wish to endanger Marjolaine by any word or action. She just wanted to drink enough that she wasn't thinking about this quite so clearly, as she was certain that her nerves would keep her from playing her part correctly. Her tactic worked. When Jean moved to touch her hand again, in a way that was somehow intimate despite the location, her heart did not falter, and it was easy to let herself be pulled into an embrace.

DA:O

"You did well," Marjolaine said, after Leliana returned, late in the evening. "And I have heard that Lady Jean was quite pleased with you as well. Hopefully so pleased that she never realizes that something is missing." She chuckled, the sound coming from deep in her throat. "You have an aptitude for this kind of work."

Leliana did not know that she wanted to be good at seducing people. Then again, she wasn't sure what she wanted, other than Marjolaine's approval. "Thank you."

"You've earned it," Marjolaine said. She smiled in a way that made Leliana's heart beat faster. "It's rare that someone does so well on their first try." She crossed the room to Leliana and kissed her on the cheek, and Leliana moved so that her next kiss fell on her mouth. No matter what had happened, she still had Marjolaine, and that was what mattered most. She had feared that what she had done with Lady Jean might change things between them. It was a relief that it had not.

She pulled Marjolaine closer, enjoying the feel of soft, skilled lips against her own, and the scent of the perfume Marjolaine wore in her hair. Eventually Marjolaine broke the kiss. "That's enough of that. We'll celebrate later tonight." She caught Leliana's eye and smiled, her gaze promising things that made Leliana ache for her touch. Marjolaine reached for her belt. "Oh, and before I forget, I owe you for your part in this job." She curled Leliana's fingers around a small leather pouch, her hands lingering where the brushed against her. "This is your share," she said as she withdrew her hand. "I am afraid it's rather light. I had to deduct some, for your clothing, training, and living expenses. But do not fear – you will be supporting yourself soon enough."

Leliana tried not to feel disappointed. She knew that after the deductions, she would be lucky to be left with anything at all. She tried to control her expression, as she did not wish to look ungrateful. Something was better than nothing, after all. And she was sure that she had cost Marjolaine a fortune.

"Well, look at it," Marjolaine said. "You don't need to be so shy around me."

Leliana did as she asked, despite that it felt crude to count money in front of the one who had given it to her. When she looked inside, and jostled the coins about to count them, she saw that she had earned ten sovereigns, even after all of the deductions. "This is a fortune," she said. She had never seen so much money, even when she had worked for Lady Cecile, and was amazed that Marjolaine would give so much to her. What she had done could not possibly be worth so much.

Marjolaine shrugged. "I told you that our work paid well." Her lips curved in a smile. "And you earned it. Jean was pleased, and her esteem carries far. I'd imagine that there will be more than a few ladies eager for your company now." She laughed, and the sound carried joy itself. "Lady Marie is probably cursing herself for not taking you home when she had the chance."

"I'd rather be with you," Leliana said, which was true. It was not just about the money; it was about Marjolaine. She would have given up a title and an estate to feel her touch again, and she thought she might risk anything for her love.

"Of course you would," Marjolaine said, pulling Leliana to her. She whispered in her ear. "Who would wish to be a caged canary, singing for scraps, when she could be flying free as a bard? Our life is the most exciting of any in Val Royeux, and it suits you better than a life in a cage ever would." She moved in close and kissed her, before murmuring, "My Leliana."

The warmth of Marjolaine's lips against hers stripped Leliana's thoughts bare. She could do nothing but return the kiss, and wonder what would happen when she waked from this dream.


	4. The Bard

"Was it difficult to work as a bard?" Cassandra asked. She had risen from her stool and paced back and forth across the small room.

"It was at first," Leliana said. She had only managed for the first few assignments by pretending to be someone else. "But one grows accustomed to anything that is routine, no?" She had quickly stopped finding her work distasteful. She enjoyed the feeling of another woman's body beneath her hands, and loved that with hands and mouth and soft, flattering words, she could cause someone to put themselves completely under her control. It became as appealing to seduce as it was to be seduced.

"I suppose." Cassandra stopped pacing and seemed to consider. "Soldiers grow used to their work, too. Did you become completely hardened towards what you did?"

"I don't know." Leliana had long ago stopped worrying about the seduction aspect of things. She was certain she broke hearts and ruined an occasional marriage. But it had all been a game to her. If people were unable to control their lusts, then at least she was the one reaping the benefit of their indiscretions. That had not bothered her, after a few initial qualms. But even towards the end of her career, there were a few things that she could not so blithely disregard. "Seduction was not so hard. Nor was it difficult to lie or steal. But I never did like to kill."

Cassandra's brow knit at this admission, and she bit her lower lip. Leliana supposed this was one sin that the other woman had some familiarity with.

"I don't mean that I can't kill, of course." Leliana had killed easily enough in the heat of battle and to protect those she loved. "But it is hard to kill someone when they do not pose an immediate threat. It feels cruel."

"Yet you killed at Marjolaine's request?" Cassandra asked. Her face tightened and she returned to pacing about the cell.

"Of course," Leliana said. What had she not done for Marjolaine? "But I did not want to, at least at first."

DA:O

Leliana was in the process of restringing her lute when Marjolaine entered her room. "I have an assignment for you."

Leliana stopped what she was doing. She did not want to miss an important detail while fiddling with strings. "I am listening."

"Lady Angelique has posed something of a problem, of late, for the Lady Celene. She would pay a great deal for her to be subtly eliminated." Eliminated? But that meant...

"I already told you that I don't kill." Leliana had brought this up long ago. She was happy to distract clients or to steal from them, but that was where her part in all this ended.

Marjolaine sat beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of her body through the small space between them. "Do you think that your actions never cause deaths?" Leliana hadn't really thought about that. She supposed that what she did as a bard likely had some repercussions, for someone. But she'd never really bothered to think what they might be. "For I can assure you that a great many have died as a consequence of the work you have done for me."

"But I didn't kill them," Leliana said. It made all the difference. It was not her fault that people were executed for crimes they committed, or perhaps did not commit despite that the evidence was there for all to see. She was not entirely sure of the part she played in these games, or exactly what consequences were due to her actions. Still, she had never murdered.

"Do you think you are less culpable because you did not hold the blade to their throat?" Marjolaine asked. When Leliana turned to her, she saw that Marjolaine's eyes were narrowed.

"I don't know." Leliana considered the rumors she'd heard, of how Lady Julietta was divorced not long after their tryst and sent to live in a convent, or how Lord Marvin was arrested for treason only days after she had slipped a few papers into a drawer in his wife's desk. "All the same, I don't want to kill someone." The wreck she had made of others' lives could be forgiven. After all, she had not known that they would be ruined by her actions. "Can't you take this assignment instead?"

Marjolaine shook her head. "Angelique suspects me. And even if she did not, she does not care for my type. I could never get close to her. You could."

"I don't want to kill," Leliana repeated. It was the one line she wouldn't cross, not even for Marjolaine. "I won't do it."

Marjolaine's lips narrowed and she crossed her arms beneath her full breasts. "I have accepted this assignment on your behalf. If you do not complete it, there will be consequences."

"We can return the money." Leliana had made enough to live on for years. And she was certain they could find other assignments, ones that didn't involve killing.

"You do not understand." Marjolaine sat beside her and ran a long fingered hand over Leliana's thigh. "I have promised Lady Celene that Lady Angelique will be dead within a month. If she is not, Lady Celene will come looking for answers." She shook her dark head. "You do not know Celene. But I can assure you that you do not wish to disappoint her."

Leliana had heard of Celene, although she had never met her. She was the niece of the Emperor, and was rumored to be behind half of what went on in the capitol. "We can leave Val Royeaux." Much as she hated to abandon her city, she would rather flee than murder.

"Even if you do, she will have you found." Marjolaine sighed. "Celene is ambitious. Angelique stands in her way. If we have promised to remove an obstacle, then fail to do this, well...I doubt there will be anywhere in Orlais we can hide. No one would shelter us against Celene's rage." She took Leliana's face in her hands. "Do you understand?"

She could have stood leaving Val Royeaux. Leliana could even have tolerated leaving Orlais, although she did not know what she would do in a foreign country. "I do." She drew a breath, forcing herself to think the matter through. If Angelique was hated by so powerful a lady, she would die no matter what anyone did. It was better to give her a kind death than to have her tried for treason or killed by someone less gentle than Leliana. "If you think that it is best, I'll do it."

"That is my good, sweet girl," Marjolaine said. She leaned in to kiss Leliana on her lips. "Thank you for doing this for me. For us."

It was the only choice she had, even if it was one she did not want. Leliana returned the kiss and let Marjolaine's skillful hands remove all further doubt from her mind.

DA:O

Leliana met Angelique at a party being thrown by the Lady Celene. It was the sort of event that she would not have been allowed to serve drinks at, had she not become a bard. For the first hour, she did not even bother to try to find Angelique. She ate the hors d'ouvres, which consisted of a delicate meat she'd never before tasted wrapped over out of season fruit that she knew must have been cultivated in a hot house. She admired the exotic flowers that were arranged into sculptures that lined the room, and watched ladies in gowns that were living works of art. The bead work on the dresses was absolutely exquisite; the delicate embroidery formed glittering pictures of scenes from history and literature. Leliana thought that she could spend the entire evening just watching the parade of people before her. But at last she withdrew from where she watched the party and went to find Angelique.

Her mark was standing with a half dozen other women, although Angelique out shown them all. In a court where the participants had the luxury to choose any embellishment, Angelique had dressed with simplicity. Her pale blue gown was unadorned, despite that the silk it was made from had the purest, lightest weave. Her golden hair was adorned only by a simple studding of gems. That the gems were as large as ripe strawberries made her wealth and station clear enough that further ornamentation would only have been garish. Leliana felt a twinge of embarrassment over her own poor dress. It had ruffles and bows to make up for lack of expensive beading, and her hair had been set in curls. Still, she saw that Angelique moved to the side to let her join their conversation when she approached, and felt her heart flutter. There was something impossibly flattering about the thought that women who were so far superior to her might consider her to be one of their own, if only for the evening.

The women continued with their conversation even after Leliana had joined them. They were speaking mostly of trivial things. Half hated one woman's hairstyle, while another applauded it as an act of nouveau fashion and creativity. Another would say that a woman's style was garish, while the other four would claim that it fit her perfectly. Through all of it, Leliana remained silent and realized that Angelique, too, held herself aloof. She wondered what the other woman was thinking, behind her perfect features.

After a time, Angelique drew her away from the bulk of the party. Leliana followed her up a staircase to a balcony that overlooked the dance floor. They stood for several minutes, watching the party go on without them before Angelique said, "I noticed that you made no comments on the fashions."

"I was taught that if you had nothing worthwhile to say, to hold your tongue." Leliana would rather admit that than that she was intimidated to say much in front of such sophisticated ladies.

Angelique laughed. "That is a lesson more should abide by." She tilted her head to look down at Leliana. "I haven't seen you here before. I assume you were invited by the Lady Celene?"

"Yes, although I do not know why." It was a lie, but she said it with enough conviction that Angelique seemed to take her at her word. "I am no one important."

Angelique looked her over, likely observing the frills and ruffles that were poor substitutes for beading and expensive trim. "You are pretty. And passing company."

It was not a compliment, but it was not an insult either. "Thank you," Leliana said. She met Angelique's eyes. "May I ask why you are here?"

Angelique looked at her for a second before she said. "Like you, I was invited by Celene."

"That's not much of an answer," Leliana said. She glanced at Angelique, whose attention seemed fully focused on the party.

Angelique turned towards her. "It's not. But it's as much of one as you gave me." She straightened, so that she could look down on Leliana. Angelique was nearly a head taller. "Perhaps we have more to talk about than shoes and fashion?"

Leliana froze. But no. It was impossible that Angelique knew why she was truly here. She probably just wished to discuss weightier matters than fashion. "Like religion or politics?"

"I was thinking politics," Angelique said. She smiled, and the lines it caused on her face revealed that she was not quite as young as she had first appeared. "I think that we have much to discuss about our mutual friend. Preferably somewhere a bit more private. Such as my estate."

Leliana needed to visit Angelique in her home, but not under these circumstances. She stepped back, but before she could get very far, felt Angelique's hand close over her wrist. "I am flattered by the invitation, but I was hoping to enjoy the party."

Angelique smiled, and her grip tightened. "It's about to become very dull." The nails of her fingers dug into Leliana's wrist. "I can provide equally scintillating entertainment."

Leliana lowered her eyes. "I am sure that there are far worthier women who are eager to accept your offer."

"Ah, but I have chosen to invite you." Her pale blue eyes reflected the candle light, and she drew close enough to kiss. "And surely you have no wish to disappoint me."

DA:O

Leliana watched for a chance to escape during the ride to Angelique's estate. The coach rumbled and rattled along the streets, but she could see that the latch was fastened, and that Angelique's guard sat beside her, ready to move if she reached for the door.

She saw no other opportunities as she was brought into Angelique's home and escorted upstairs to a sitting room. A maid brought pastries and tea, and Leliana sat there watching the food and the maid until Angelique entered and poured them both a cup from the same pot.

After Angelique had taken a sip of her tea, Leliana drank as well. It was unlikely that Angelique would go to this effort if she merely wished her dead. And it was impolite to refuse hospitality. "Why have you brought me here?"

"I'm not naive," Angelique said. She poured herself more tea. "You said you were invited to that party by Celene. I want to know why."

"I don't know," Leliana said. She took another sip of the tea to soothe the knot that had formed in her throat.

"Please do not imagine me a fool," Angelique said. "I've dealt with bards before. You're a fickle lot. Tell me why she sent you, and I'll compensate you appropriately for your efforts. I'll even give you what you're after. Celene never needs to know we've had this conversation."

Leliana considered her position. She doubted there was a way to escape from this predicament in a conventional manner; Angelique's estate had more guards than many fortresses. All the same, there was no way she could tell Angelique the truth. She considered what she had learned about the Lady Angelique from rumors and innuendo. "She asked me to seduce you," she said, although she doubted that either Celene or Marjolaine cared whether she seduced Angelique or not, just as long as she completed the task she had been assigned. "She wanted me to bring her proof that you were cheating on your husband with one of your chevaliers. She suspects your lover is Marc."

Angelique's eyebrow rose. "What does she intend to do with this information?" she asked, before she shook her head. "No, it is of no matter. You would not know. What did she wish you to do if you did not find proof?"

"To fabricate it," Leliana said. She closed her eyes, hoping the story rang true. "I was to forge love letters and leave them where your husband could find them. I was also to bring a copy to Celene, to keep in case he did not."

Angelique laughed aloud. "It is fortunate, then, that my husband is not a jealous man." She shook her head. "Little bard, you will have to be far more clever if you wish to lie to me."

"That is what she told me to do," Leliana repeated. Perhaps if she stuck to her lie, Angelique would believe her and she'd have some hope of getting out of this alive.

Angelique shook her head, before moving to pick up her cup. She took a sip of her tea. "You are wasting both our time." Her arms crossed beneath her breasts. "My husband loves being married into the imperial family far more than he admires my fidelity. I could engage in an affair with a stable hand before his very eyes, and he would forgive it. I know this; Celene knows this. You will need a more convincing lie. Or better yet, the truth." She reached over to touch Leliana's hand with her soft fingers. "Please. This does not need to be so difficult. Tell me why she sent you, and I will let you go."

Leliana took a breath. She did not trust Angelique, but neither did she trust herself to find a more compelling explanation for her presence at the party. "She sent me to kill you."

Angelique nodded her head and withdrew. "That does sound like Celene," she said. She rose and paced back and forth across the room, her heels clacking with each step. "My little cousin never was one for subtlety."

"What do you intend to do?" Leliana asked. If she was given a chance at freedom, she could take Marjolaine and run somewhere else. Anywhere else. She did not know where, but she would deal with those details later.

Angelique paused. "I will think. Decisions made in haste are for fools like Celene. But what I do is of no importance to you." She smiled at Leliana, her face radiant in triumph. "Instead, I mean to tell you what you must do. It is very simple. You will return to her. Tell her you are making progress, but need more time to act." Her fingers intertwined. "You will report to me tomorrow night. I will have my mind made up about you then."

Leliana nodded. If she betrayed Celene in this way, she would make a powerful enemy. And if she did not return, Angelique would prove no less dangerous. But she sold time to Angelique at the same price she bought it for herself. "In that case, I will return to you tomorrow."

DA:O

"Was it typical for your targets to be so...cordial?" Cassandra asked. Her brows drew together in thought.

"For some, yes." Orlesian society was remarkably polite, no matter what else its flaws. "But Lady Angelique did not spare me out of kindness. Likely she thought she could play me against Celene. It happened quite often. A bard would be sent to bring back information, and return with a false lead and a better offer. It is a kind of game, you see."

Cassandra nodded. "I think I do." She shook her head. "But you killed her, anyway."

"There is a loser in any game," Leliana said. She stared down at her hands. There was dirt under the nails from gardening. She thought she ought to clean it out. "If I knew then what I do now, I might have arranged it so that Celene lost. But I was young. Foolish. Confident. I think that Angelique over-estimated me, to be honest."

"How so?"

In so many ways. In retrospect, it was easy to see that Angelique had thought her clever enough to consider other alternatives before taking needless risks and acting in the least sophisticated, most brutal method possible.

DA:O

Angelique had her returned to the center of the city late in the night. Leliana initially considered returning to her home and discussing the matter with Marjolaine. But that would waste time that she didn't think she had. Instead she disguised herself; she changed her clothing, dyed her hair, and returned early in the morning to Angelique's estate.

She was able to enter the manor wearing the uniform of a maidservant, and used information she had gained from Marjolaine to find her way to where Angelique slept. Nestled in bed, Angelique's appearance mirrored her name. Her fair hair spilled about the pillows, and her pale skin was only slightly darker than the crisp white of her sheets. She looked like the perfect model of an imperial princess. It was only with the greatest of regrets that Leliana would kill her.

It was a pity that one so young and lovely had to die. But Leliana knew enough of her patron to realize that Celene would not tolerate failure. And she would prefer to kill Angelique than to give Celene a reason to kill either herself or Marjolaine. She would make it quick. It was the least she could do for the other woman.

She leaned over to take a pillow from the far side of the bed. From there it was easy. She held the pillow over Angelique's face, and gave her a quick, painless death.

DA:O

"Bullshit," Cassandra said. She had returned to pacing the room, her armor clinking with each step. "I have watched people die. They do not just pass away quietly in their sleep. Not when they are young and healthy. Not when they are being killed."

Leliana stared resolutely at a crack in the floor. It had not been so simple, no. But she preferred to think that she had given Angelique the kind of death she would have wanted for herself. "It was a bit more messy than that," she admitted at last. "But she did die."

DA:O

When Leliana leaned over the bed to take the pillow, Angelique woke. She tried to scream, but Leliana managed to slam her hand against her mouth before she could make more than a startled gasp. Angelique bit her, hard enough to draw blood, but Leliana forced her hand farther back into the woman's mouth, until she could feel Angelique gag against her fingers.

Her wide blue eyes stared at Leliana for a second, before she swung at Leliana with her fist, hitting her on the side. It hurt, but far less than the sting of her teeth on her hand. Angelique must have realized that her movement was futile, for she next tried to push Leliana away, using the full weight of her body.

Leliana shifted to get a better grip, but Angelique was taller and heavier than her. She managed to tear herself free long enough to scream for help, and Leliana knew that she didn't have much time. She reached for her boot and freed the dagger she kept hidden there. She jabbed it at Angelique, and managed to lodge it in her throat. Angelique's mouth opened in another scream, but this time no sound issued past her lips. Leliana pulled at the handle of her knife and managed to dislodge it. She slashed at her neck again, and this time found a vein. Blood dribbled past her fingers onto that pristine, white bed, and a second later Angelique's stopped struggling.

Her task was done, but the footsteps Leliana already heard just beyond the door made it clear that Angelique did not intend to die alone. She was glancing about, preparing her next course of action, when the door to the room swung open to reveal several of Angelique's guards.

Their shock at the scene gave Leliana a few seconds. She jumped to her feet and threw herself at the window with all the force her small body possessed. The window cracked, but did not shatter. A guard shifted his attention to her and ran in her direction, his sword raised. Leliana stepped out from under the swing of the blade just in time for him to hit the pane of glass rather than her. This time, the window did break, and she dove through the opening before he could strike again.

The pain on hitting the ground was nearly enough to cause her to black out, but Leliana found her wits fast enough. Angelique's guards knew what she had done, and it was a short run from the second floor to the first. She glanced about. A forest surrounded the estate, and she might have some luck if she could make it to cover. She ignored the pain that lanced through her body and ran in that direction, determined to save herself in anyway she could.

DA:O

Cassandra paced back and forth across to cell. "So you survived."

"I ran as fast as I could and found a ditch to lie in." It had been a pool where waste too foul to feed the pigs was dumped. But there was no real need to add in that little detail. "They eventually went in another direction, and I managed to return home."

"And no one connected you to this Angelique's death?" One of Cassandra's eyebrows raised in a way that made it clear what she thought of this tale.

Leliana had to admit that her luck was, at times, uncanny. "I don't know," she said. "We left Val Royeaux soon after. Everyone knew that Angelique had been murdered. I was too unimportant for gossip, although I'm sure people discussed Celene's role in her death. But such things are difficult to prove. She was never convicted, nor was I." Leliana shook her head. "I stayed away for a while, and by the time I returned, people had found other things to talk about."

"Like what?" Cassandra asked. Her eyes were narrowed in thought.

"New fashions and new intrigues. The most recent gossip, after I returned, was about the marriage of King Cailan to Anora MacTir."

"I hadn't thought Orleisans cared about such things," Cassandra said.

How could she think they did not? Their marriage was a slap in the face of Orlais. It was one thing for a colony to rebel, another altogether for the king to marry the common born daughter of the man who had led that rebellion. "It was very romantic," Leliana said, letting her eyes gaze off into worlds more exciting than the mundane. "The son of a king marries the daughter of a great hero? It's like a fairy tale!"

Cassandra laughed at this. "So I suppose their marriage had nothing to do with your appearance in Ferelden?"

"Oh, it did," Leliana said. She had not known it at the time, but she had eventually learned how few coincidences there truly were in life. "Just not perhaps in the way you'd expect."


	5. The Ferelden

Ferelden was not as Leliana had pictured it. Admittedly, her knowledge was limited; Cecile had told her of the country her parents had come from, and had admitted that it might lack some of the refinements Orlesians took for granted. All the same, Leliana had been expecting more. The country was a disaster. The roads were unpaved, and got muddy every time it rained. Even the nice inns had fleas. And the nobility dressed little better than merchants did in Val Royeaux. Leliana did not understand why they had come here, or what use there was in trying to teach their game to politicians so uncouth she half-expected them to spit on their ugly, uneven floors. But Marjolaine had said that they must come, and Leliana trusted that she did nothing without reason.

So she waited for that reason, hiding in the cramped room she shared with Marjolaine at one of the inns in town. Marjolaine would leave early every night, and rarely returned before dawn, refusing to tell Leliana where she had gone. It was incredibly boring to wait for her, with nothing to do other than to practice her lute and wonder why they were still here.

"Are we finished yet?" Leliana asked, one morning after Marjolaine had returned especially late, smelling of alcohol and sweat.

Marjolaine shook her dark hair and smiled. "Patience, my sweet one. I am getting close, but these things take time to do well."

Leliana had been waiting for weeks to return home, and still had no idea as to when they would be done. "Could I help?" If she could, maybe they'd be done faster and could leave this place.

Marjolaine cocked her head. "Perhaps. I could use a distraction tonight, while I fetch certain things. Do you think you would be up for the challenge?"

Leliana was always up for anything. If it would get her out of Ferelden, it was all the better. "Of course."

DA:O

Marjolaine instructed her to create chaos in the marketplace by misplacing certain items and replacing them with others. Merchants who thrived on order would soon find chaos. In addition, she increased the disorder by finding those foolish enough to drink heavily, and misplace certain of their intimate items in public places. It was an easy enough task, and Leliana did it without the slightest difficulty. Eventually the guards came to investigate the mess she had created, and while they were untangling it, Leliana signaled for Marjolaine. Her mentor led her to one of the larger estates in town, and explained the mission as they walked.

"All we need to do now is one little thing. You must plant some incriminating papers in the Arl's room. I will help by creating a small distraction." She handed the papers to Leliana, her fingers brushing over Leliana's hand. "Can I count on you?"

It was a simple plan, but that was for the best. Marjolaine would do what it took to draw attention from her, and Leliana would sneak inside and plant the documents somewhere personal. They had done this many times before, and it always worked. Why the papers needed to be planted, or what was written inside the sealed envelope, Leliana did not know. But the less she knew, the less she could betray. "Always," Leliana said, giving Marjolaine one last kiss before heading to the mansion.

DA:O

"So I take it you suspected nothing of Marjolaine's true intent." One of Cassandra's dark eyebrows was raised.

"I did not know entirely what she had planned," Leliana said. She took a sip of her tea. "But I never did."

"So you thought this was an ordinary mission?" Cassandra's armored hands crossed beneath her breast.

"No." Even from the beginning, Marjolaine had been especially cagey. And Leliana had not failed to notice that the Arl's estate had only a few guards, none of whom were particularly well trained. "It was peculiar enough from the start that I asked questions, but it was not so strange that I asked the right ones." It was always easier to understand things after they had come to pass. "I trusted Marjolaine. And I thought that if we could just get this done with, we could go home."

"It seems that didn't happen," Cassandra said, as though this was not the most blindingly obvious statement that had ever been uttered.

"No, it did not."

DA:O

Everything was so simple, up until Leliana reached the living quarters in Arl Raleigh's estate.

She saw Marjolaine briefly, and wondered what she was doing here, rather than causing a distraction somewhere else. Then she saw a man appear beside Marjolaine, and watched the two walk into a spare bedroom together. The way they touched left no doubt in Leliana's mind that they were lovers, and she had to bite her tongue to restrain the swell of jealousy she felt at the sight of them. Leliana reminded herself that Marjolaine was doing this to distract the man from Leliana's actions. All the same, it stung, and Leliana focused on the slight long after she should have forgotten it and instead remembered other things.

There were so many details that now stuck in her mind, despite that she had barely noticed them then. On her way up to Raleigh's rooms, Leliana had passed through a dungeon, and observed fresh blood on the wheel of a rack. She had glanced at various papers that begged Raleigh to see reason, or that criticized his cruelty. There were maps hung on walls with sketches for wars not yet waged, and plans for provisioning troops. But at the time, none of these had seemed half as important as that brief glimpse of Marjolaine's hand moving over Raleigh's chest in a way that implied a comfortable familiarity.

It was that jealousy that kept her from considering the item she was carrying until she reached Raleigh's office. But when she took the envelope from her jerkin, Leliana recalled the things she had seen and thought she would take just a quick peek at what lay inside the envelope. She heated one of her knives on a candle, and slid it beneath the wax of the outer seal. She removed the papers from within, and saw that they were sealed, too. Only this time, the seal was not that of a jilted Fereldan noblewoman – it was that of the Orlesian military. Leliana stared at the papers for several seconds before putting them back in their envelope.

What, she wondered, did this all mean? Marjolaine could not mean to give away state secrets. But there was no other explanation for the presence of Orlesian documents in Ferelden. Leliana's mind worked fast. Marjolaine must have encountered these papers somewhere, and found a market for them here. Raleigh must be the purchaser, but if he was buying the information, why demand that she sneak into his estate to deliver them? Leliana considered the possibilities. But she had little time to dwell on them as, just as she had reaffixed the seal, the door opened behind her. She turned to see that Marjolaine had entered the room.

"Well done, my pretty one," Marjolaine said. She stepped over to Leliana and kissed her on each cheek. "Shall we go now?"

Leliana shook her head. "Those papers have the general's seal. Leaving them here is treason."

Marjolaine smiled, and took her hands in her own. "This is about the man I was with, isn't it? He means nothing to me. He is just an amusement, as you have entertained yourself with so many others, so many times. Do not be jealous."

She was jealous, but not enough so that she didn't realize that the argument Marjolaine was making had nothing to do with the task at hand. "This isn't about you and me, Marjolaine. It's about Orlais. Taking those papers out of our country is treason. If we're caught delivering them here..."

Marjolaine shrugged. "What of it? We've brought many things into many places. It has never mattered to you before."

"It's never before been likely to get me executed." This wasn't entirely true, but Leliana feared the military far more than an angry husband. "We need to take them back."

Marjolaine held her gaze for several seconds before she said, "Fine." Leliana reached to take the papers and tucked them into her tunic. She did not like the way Marjolaine looked when she agreed with her, but they could discuss this later, once they were out of town and safely at an inn many miles away.

DA:O

"And that was it?" Cassandra asked. Her boots tapped on the hard stone as she paced. "You just left with the papers?"

"No." Leliana glanced at the cup of tea in her hands. Her fingers curved around the warm glass, savoring the feel. "Marjolaine had always intended to deliver the papers to Raleigh. And she did. She just went about it in a peculiar way."

Cassandra stopped in front of her, staring down at her with narrowed eyes. "If Marjolaine intended to give these papers to Raleigh, why pretend to break into his estate? Why have you do it? Surely, it would not have been difficult to deliver them herself."

Leliana closed her eyes. Even with everything she knew now, she still did not understand so many of Marjolaine's actions. It had occurred to her that Marjolaine might have done certain things for no reason other than her own amusement. "I think she wanted to later deny what she had done. She would take credit from Raleigh, but blame me when we reached Orlais. I would hang, and she would be seen as a hero for turning me in. I am Fereldan, after all." It was that, she thought, that had damned her. Marjolaine had known of her heritage, as had enough others to make it seem plausible that she would give away the secrets of her adopted home to the country her mother had been born in. "As for the rest, I do not know. It would have made more sense to ask me to deliver the papers to Raleigh than it would have to ask me to plant them in his bedroom. But perhaps she feared I would suspect something if it was done that way? Maybe she thought that I needed to handle the documents to incriminate myself? I do not know. All I know for certain is what I told you. The rest is conjecture."

Cassandra nodded. "Then we will continue without further debating Marjolaine's intentions." She put her hands on her hips. "Where were we? Oh, yes, Marjolaine caught you. And she said you could return the papers to Orlais. What came after that?"

The rest was hard to return to, even after all these years. But Leliana tried to tell her.

DA:O

They were almost safe. Leliana saw the gates to the estate and knew that it was just a few more minutes before she could leave this night behind her. She moved towards the gates, letting Marjolaine slip out of sight. This proved to be her fatal mistake. A second after she passed her mentor, she felt a hand on her shoulder, then a sharp pain at her side. She stopped, trying to figure out why she hurt, and put a hand to the injury. When her hand pressed into her stomach, she felt something lodged against her armor, and when she glanced down, she realized that Marjolaine had stabbed her.

She did not understand why anyone would hurt her. "Why?" Leliana said, reaching down to feel at the handle of the dagger, wondering how deep the knife had cut. She wished she could examine the wound, and see how bad it truly was.

Marjolaine stepped in front of her and shrugged. "Because you took something I wanted, my pretty one." She leaned in to kiss Leliana, her hand sneaking down the front of Leliana's tunic. She removed the documents she was looking for and stepped back. She regarded Leliana from a distance. "You know not to take things that are mine."

Leliana hunched over. The pain was as intense as it had been the moment Marjolaine had struck. She wondered if she should remove the dagger, or if it was all that was keeping her body pieced together. She had a brief memory of seeing a man who had died of a gut wound, and wondered if that was to be her fate. "The letters were not yours to give."

Marjolaine shrugged. She seemed bored with the scene, if that was possible. How could someone grow so jaded that even the death of their lover brought nothing but ennui? "They were mine because I was clever enough to find them. And what is mine to take is mine to give." She lowered her head, so that she was close enough to kiss. "But do not fear, my Leliana. I am not so cruel. I have wounded you, but I don't think you will die from your injury. And I do not intend to kill you. I just want to teach you a lesson of sorts."

She drew back, and whistled at the estate. She returned to watching Leliana, her brown eyes regarding her without compassion, until guards from the estate arrived, with Raleigh beside them. He kissed Marjolaine on the cheek, the turned to Leliana, regarding her the way he might judge an animal at a fair.

"This is the one who stole your papers," Marjolaine said, looking up at him as though he were the center of her world. "I have apprehended her for you."

It was fortunate, Leliana thought, that Marjolaine had already injured her badly enough that it no longer hurt when Raleigh leaned down to kiss Marjolaine. His lips lingered on hers, and his voice was husky when he said, "You have done everything I could have hoped for and more. I cannot wait to take you as my bride."

"I do what I can for Ferelden," Marjolaine said. She shrugged and handed him the papers. "As for her, do what you will."

Raleigh's face broke into a smile that Leliana was only later to fully understand the meaning of. "Oh, I will," he said. He drew close enough to Leliana that she could smell the stink of his breath. "I think we will have very much fun indeed."

DA:O

"So what did he do to you?" Cassandra demanded. "You survived. So Marjolaine fulfilled her part of the deal."

Leliana supposed she had, even if her survival was unintentional. "I do not believe that she expected me to live." Her hands curled about her mug. After her first few days in the dungeons, she had longed to die.

"What do you mean?" Cassandra had returned to pacing the cell, her boots clacking against the stones.

Even now, it was hard to remember. Leliana had forced those thoughts from her mind. Occasionally, some little thing would bring them back to her. There might be the flutter of a branch that reminded her of a whip, or a lover who circled her hand in a way that reminded her of a chain. "It's not important." She had no way of describing what had happened during those two weeks to Cassandra. And there was no reason to spread such misery.

Cassandra shook her head and sighed. "If you refuse to say, there is nothing I can do with you." She moved her stool so that it was directly across from Leliana's chair and sat on it. She leaned in, close enough to touch. "We need to know all. Not just for our sake. For yours."

Leliana failed to see how recalling those weeks would do anyone any good. "I just don't think that she expected me to survive Raleigh's treatment. It was...unkind."

Cassandra shook her head. "I need more than that. Unkindness can encompass so many things."

Leliana drew a breath, reminding herself that patience was a virtue sent by the Maker Himself. "It was an uncharacteristic unkindness. Raleigh was remarkably cruel." These were all the details anyone needed to know.

Cassandra rose and began pacing again. "I know that these weeks were hard for you. I have never known someone to escape torture unscathed. But what you have said is nothing more than evasions and euphemisms. We need more, if we are to work with you."

Leliana did not care. She had already suffered enough on the behalf of the Chantry. "Then perhaps we don't need to work together."

The Seeker scowled at that, before returning to her seat. But then she relaxed and took Leliana's hands. "I don't mean it that way," she said. "But how can we trust you, if we think that you are holding back?"

Leliana took another deep breath. She was not holding back to spite them, only to protect them from the parts of her life that she did not believe anyone needed to know. "What do you want to hear?" she asked.

"Everything," Cassandra said, as if it was that simple.

"Everything encompasses a lot." There was no way in which Leliana could describe what had happened during that time. Even saying this much made bile rise in her throat, to where she could taste it on her tongue.

"Stop being glib." Cassandra withdrew and her lips thinned. "You have been given an order."

Leliana could stand being ordered to fight, to kill, even to die. But this was too much. She straightened in her chair. "What do you want to know? What really?" Her voice was becoming sharp, but she no longer cared. "That I was tortured? That I was raped? That for two weeks I was caught in that hell, waiting to see what new methods Raleigh could devise to amuse himself?" She caught Cassandra's eye, and it was gratifying to see that the Seeker had reacted to her words. "Did you want all the little gritty details? Did you want to know what it's like to feel someone's fingers on yours, pulling them out of their sockets, while you wonder if you'll ever be able to write or play the lute again? Have you ever spent the night on a cold floor of a cell, wondering what new torments will greet you in the morning? Have you ever wondered whether there was a way to kill yourself quickly, before someone else killed you slowly?" She let this sink in before she said, "I thought not."

Cassandra shook her head. "I haven't wondered that, not really."

"Then why do you ask? Why do you care?" Leliana knew she should stop, but had stopped caring herself. "Am I supposed to tell you this because you need some kind of sick, voyeuristic insight into the darkest places of the soul? Were you hoping for some pornography of torture? Or is this just therapy?" Since she had gone so far already, Leliana thought she might as well go all the way.

"I don't wish to study you, or to diminish your experiences-" Cassandra had dropped her hands and was leaning away from her.

"Bullshit." Leliana could use her own words against her. "You already know what happened to me in that dungeon, just as you know everything else about my life. If it has not interested you before, I do not know why this concerns you now."

"But we need to know..." Cassandra's eyes were dark and wide, their gaze as innocent as that of a child.

"You know what you need to know." Leliana sighed and glanced at her cup of tea. "What I felt then no longer matters. It's behind me. I want it to stay that way."

"Sometimes you need to lance a sore to let the illness out." Cassandra was now looking at her hands, her body hunched on her stool.

"And sometimes that just opens it for new infection." Leliana had dealt with everything the best she could. She had no desire to reopen wounds that had mostly healed. "Let's leave it at that. I'll resume telling my story from after I was freed. The other parts are in the past. Let's let them stay there."


	6. The Sister

They broke for the evening. Cassandra walked with Leliana to the convent's small chapel, and there they celebrated the compline. Leliana knelt and chanted along with the other sisters. "Grant unto me, Thy servant, the spirit of humility, chastity, patience and love. Grant me to see my own faults, and judge not my kin. For Thou art blessed, Oh Bride of the Maker." She received her blessing and retired to her cell for the evening to sleep, doing her best to purge all unworthy thoughts from her head.

DA:O

The next evening, after chores and vespers, Cassandra summoned her again to continue their discussion. Leliana lit the incense that was supposed to help her relax, while Cassandra brewed a pot of tea on the hearth. Once they were finished, they settled on their chairs.

"So we resume?" Leliana would have been as happy to refrain, despite that she had resigned herself to further questioning.

"Yes." Cassandra's hands gripped her mug. She had removed her armor for this evening, and was clad in only a light pair of breeches and a tunic. She looked softer this way. "I believe you were going to explain how the military papers were retrieved."

Leliana nodded. She could handle this discussion. "I was freed from my cell by Reverend Mother Dorothea-"

"Now the Divine Justinia."

"Yes. Blessed be her name." Leliana took a deep breath and continued. "Regardless, she freed me. You know this. She was after the papers, too, and wanted them returned to Orlais. I agreed to assist her." Leliana shrugged. "I had meant to do it, anyway and I welcomed her help. From there, it was not so hard. We located Raleigh. Marjolaine had abandoned him, and I eliminated him. The papers were returned. And that was that."

"And you converted?" Cassandra cocked her head, as though she were expecting a simple answer. Leliana thought she must believe that conversions came in glorious moments of epiphany, rather than in the millions of little questions that were slowly answered over the course of a life.

"I had always been Andrastian." All Orlesians were born into the faith. "But at her request, I was brought into the Chantry."

Cassandra nodded. "Why?" she asked. It was a simple question, but the answer was far harder to explain.

DA:O

Leliana tossed in her bed. The injuries she'd received both in Raleigh's prison and in her later battle against him were slow to heal. The wounds chafed against the wool of her blankets, and even after several weeks, she rarely slept without nightmares.

All the same, her cuts had scabbed over, and her bones were knitting back together. It would not be long before she was healed. By then, she likely would have exhausted Dorothea's hospitality and would have to find something else to do with her life. Leliana had no idea what, and the thought kept her tossing in her bed.

She was about to get up and walk, for effort never made sleep arrive, when the door to her room opened. Dorothea entered and walked to her bed.

"It does not surprise me that you are unable to find rest." Dorothea put a hand to Leliana's forehead. "Would it help to talk?"

Leliana did not know what good could be gained from idle chat. She sat up in bed, although she kept her blankets close. Ferelden was colder than Orlais, and autumn had arrived early. "I don't know what there is to say. You know what happened."

Dorothea nodded. Her hands were clasped in her lap. "Far too well." She moved her hand and set it on Leliana's, the wrinkled fingers soft against her own. "Sometimes it helps to talk. Sometimes it is best to forget."

"I want to forget." If they had allowed wine in here, Leliana would have drunk every night until her mind went blank.

"Then forget." Dorothea's voice warmed the cold cell. "You have as long as you need."

Leliana did not know that she did, but she would think on that later. "I am grateful for your hospitality. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't saved me."

"You would have found your own way." Even in the dim light, Leliana could see that Dorothea's eyes were kind. "You are stronger than you know."

Leliana did not feel strong. She felt sore and tired and deeply unhappy. But it was kind for Dorothea to say this. She reached over and squeezed her hand. "I'm not so sure about that." She sighed, feeling her shoulders tense. Something about the night made it easier to share thoughts that refused to go away. "And I'm grateful to you for letting me stay here. Not just for freeing me, but also for doing your best to make me better." She didn't know that she'd ever fully recover, but she was better off protected by the Chantry than she would have been left alone in a foreign country.

"It is not so hard to do this." She turned to see that Dorothea was smiling. "And we have done very little. You have healed yourself. We have only given you a little time in which to mend."

It was more than Marjolaine had ever done, and she had served her former master far better than she had any of the Chantry sisters. "It is still kind for you to have done it." Leliana dropped Dorothea's hand and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I won't trouble you for long."

She felt a hand on her shoulder. "Where do you intend to go?"

Leliana turned towards Dorothea. The Reverend Mother was watching her intently. "I don't know."

Dorothea rubbed her back in small circles. "You do not have to leave, you know. We will not keep you against your will. But if you would like, you are welcome to remain here."

"I'm not sure that a former bard would make a good Chantry sister." It was not a life she had ever considered, and Leliana doubted that she was at all suited to it.

"You might, you might not." Dorothea's hand moved along her back, soothing her as though she were a small child. "You are free to stay for as long or as little as you would like. Know that you are always welcome here."

Leliana doubted that she would linger long. But until she knew of somewhere else to go, it was as good an offer as she was likely to get.

DA:O

"You stayed there for three years." Cassandra rose and paced about the small room.

"I had nowhere else to go." She doubted she would be safe in Orlais, at least if rumors spread that she had stolen military secrets. And she had neither friends nor family left in Ferelden to shelter her. "Besides, I grew to love the peace of the convent. The women there were kind; they became like family to me." She looked down at her hands. They were rough from her adventures and dirty from gardening earlier in the day.

"Still you left." Cassandra stopped pacing and turned to stare at her.

"It wasn't the right life for me." Leliana took a sip of her tea. She missed the serenity and certainty of that life, but could remember, too, why she'd gone. Dorothea had told her that she could remain in the convent until she fully healed; it had taken three years for her bandages to chafe.

Cassandra made a sound in the back of her throat, and crossed her arms under her chest. "Yet you wish to remain with the Chantry."

"I never left the Chantry." She hadn't, not really. If anything, her faith had only strengthened when she left her convent. "I was just called away from my cloister. They are different things, you see." The Chantry was more than just a plot of earth, or a building to house believers.

"I'm not sure that I understand." Cassandra never did, but as always, Leliana did her best to explain.

DA:O

Leliana smoothed dirt over the roots of the rose bush. The hybrid was new to Ferelden, sent from Orlais to see whether this type of rose could thrive in cooler climates. Leliana pitied it. The trip had left the plant wilted and dry and she wasn't sure that she could do much of anything to help. Still, she planted it in the warmest corner of their flower garden and gave it a bit of water. Perhaps, in time, it would recover and bloom.

She hoped so, as it would give her something to do. Not that gardening was interesting, but she preferred any activity to memorizing the Chant of Light. Leliana rose and moved onto the next bed. She had just reached for a weed, ready to pull it out by the root, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Dorothea standing beside her.

"Ah, Mother Dorothea!" Leliana looked up at her and smiled. She hadn't expected that Dorothea would return to Ferelden ever, far less so soon. "What are you doing here?"

Dorothea extended a hand and helped her to her feet. "I have heard rumors concerning Ferelden. I was hoping that you would help me in certain matters relating to them."

"Of course." Leliana brushed the dirt from her shift. Gardening always managed to make her absolutely filthy. "You know that I would be glad to do anything for you." Truly she would. It was not just that Dorothea had saved her – she had repaid that by killing Raleigh and retrieving the military papers. It was other things, too.

The sisters in Ferelden had shown her a kindness that she would not have expected from anyone, far less from foreigners. But the Chantry did not recognize race or nationality as divisions – they were one Church, one Faith, one People. The Maker did not differentiate between rich and poor, Ferelden or Orlesian, man or woman. So neither did His Church. With the sisters, Leliana had housed orphans, fed beggars, and tended to the sick. And she knew that Reverend Mothers counseled kings, helping to prevent wars and providing the one thread the bound the feuding nations of Thedas together into one united whole. Marjolaine had given her tasks that helped her support herself, but the Chantry gave her a purpose that was greater than her own life.

Dorothea led her into the local Reverend Mother's rooms. They sat in the small chamber, making small talk until Dorothea revealed what she had come to say.

"You see," Dorothea said, her hands folded in her lap and her head bowed. "There are dark rumors about Ferelden. Monsters stir in the south, and the king has refused to accept the help that Orlais has offered."

"Monsters?" Leliana's mind ran over the many possibilities. "You mean dragons?" She had heard of the Old Gods, of creatures who stood outside the Maker and threatened the people of Thedas with their dark thoughts and evil whispering.

"Darkspawn," Dorothea said. She raised her head to meet Leliana's gaze. "If they are not stopped, they will taint the entire world. Orlais cannot let this come to pass. But if they insist on providing troops after those forces have been rejected, it will be seen as an act of aggression."

Leliana nodded her head. The problem was the king's general. He was the father-in-law of the king, and his most trusted adviser. Teyrn Loghain was known to hate Orlais with a passion that rivaled that of Raleigh. He would have to be removed if Ferelden was to see reason. Leliana's breath sped at the thought. It had been so long since she had been able to do anything more exciting than weed gardens and make Sister Margaret blush with faintly risqué tales. "What should I do?"

Dorothea shook her head. "I do not know for certain. Celene has offered her help time and again. The king has refused it. And the Chantry does not yet wish to become involved." Her fingers clasped together, tight enough that they went white at the knuckles. "Many dangers threaten, and until there is an agreed upon course of action, we dare not act. But we can watch and wait for an opportunity. We will trust to the Maker to provide one."

Leliana nodded. "So I am to do that?" It would be less exciting than killing the teyrn or the queen, but it would still be more fun than another day spent weeding. Although she still had no idea what she was to watch for, and suspected that every sister was being given the same advice.

Dorothea nodded. "Yes." She smiled, her eyes wrinkling along familiar lines. "I can count on you to do this?"

"You know that you only have to say the word." Leliana took her hands in her own. "Is there anything in particular I should watch for?"

Dorothea gave her what information she could, and provided her with sovereigns to spend, just in case she needed the money. But it was the last bit of advice that was the most vital. "Lothering is the closest town to Ostagar, where the king will make his stand. The army may pass through here. Watch for them in the town and in the taverns, and report to me whatever you hear them say. Perhaps the king will change his mind, or danger will soften the teyrn's grudges. Either way, if you learn something important, you must tell me at once. And if you have the opportunity to intervene in a more direct manner, you are to take it."

Leliana nodded. Acting was more interesting than watching, and she doubted the others were being trusted to do more than listen. She would find a way to influence things, just as she had when she was a bard. Her mind skimmed over the possibilities. The king's infidelities were rumored – perhaps he would choose to indulge in her charms? Or maybe Leliana could use her golden tongue on his adviser, or even the queen herself. "I will do what I can," she said. She bent her head to kiss Dorothea's hand. "You know that I am yours, in this life and the next."

"You belong to no one but yourself and the Maker." The Reverend Mother's hand moved to make a sign of blessing. "But I trust you will succeed."

DA:O

The army bypassed Lothering on their way to Ostagar. And on their way back, they rushed through the town so hurriedly that Leliana was only able to hear a few rumors. Most were confusing. Someone spoke of how the teyrn had betrayed the king, and someone else told her that the Wardens had caused the king's death. Either way, the king was dead, and the last hope of reconciliation with Orlais was gone, now that Teyrn Loghain controlled the country.

Her heart constricted at the thought of this lovely kingdom being consumed by the taint that threatened it. But she did not know what she could do. She wandered in the garden, her mind mired in black thoughts. She was just about to resign herself to how hopeless it all was when she passed by the little rose bush she had planted. Despite her expectations, the plant had taken well to the climate and had revived. Little buds sprouted from its stems, and one of the flowers had even managed to bloom. She knelt down and pressed her nose to the petals. It smelled like home, yet wilder, as though the rain in this place had somehow brought an unfamiliar quality to half-forgotten scents. Leliana knew this was a sign. The Maker would not abandon His children. He might have made things difficult for her, but she would find a way to prevail. She would go to Denerim, and find a way to make someone see reason.

It was just a matter of getting there. Leliana decided that her best bet would be to attach herself to one of the bands of travelers that passed through Lothering. She began to spend her afternoons in the tavern, listening to rumors and waiting for a group that looked capable of making the trip. It was there that she met them. She had been sipping a glass of herbal tea, plotting out which of the mercenaries looked most promising, when three people entered the bar. Leliana glanced at them, before returning her focus to one of the Blackstone irregulars. They seemed her best hope for escaping this town.

She had just taken another sip of her tea when several of the guards Loghain had left behind confronted the travelers. She took a closer look. The travelers were remarkably well armed for refugees. Perhaps she had discounted them too quickly. Leliana rose and stepped forward, telling the guards, "Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble. These are just poor souls, seeking refuge."

"They're more than that," the guard told her. That much was obvious. The two women carried staves and were dressed as mages. "Now stay out of our way, sister, or you'll get the same as these traitors."

Traitors? Was it possible...? Leliana had no time to think, because the next thing she knew, she'd managed to get herself caught up in the brawl. She drew her daggers and circled behind one of the guards, managing to gut him a second before one of the mages cast, freezing the man into place. The others were dispatched as easily, with the last spared to send a message to Loghain.

"I am glad you found it in your heart to offer that man mercy," Leliana said, approaching the party. Now that she could get a close look at them, she was almost certain that these were the traitors who had been advertised about town. Two of them matched the descriptions of the missing Grey Wardens, and the last was dressed as an apostate mage. Her heart skipped in her chest. If some of the Wardens truly had survived Ostagar, perhaps there was some chance they could defeat this Blight. Dorothea was right; she had kept her faith, and had been rewarded by the appearance of the last Wardens in Ferelden. "I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters here in Lothering."

The Warden introduced herself. She turned, but before she could leave, Leliana continued.

"You will be battling the darkspawn, no? I know you will need all the help you can get. That's why I'm coming along." Leliana hoped that the skill she had shown was enough to persuade the Wardens to let her join her.

"I will need help, that's true," the female Warden said. Her gaze traveled across Leliana, as though she were still deciding whether Leliana's presence would be worth the hassle.

It was up to Leliana to convince her that it was. So she spun a story about her divine mission. It was not so much of a stretch. Her Reverend Mother had told her to find someone who could help them defeat the Blight, and Leliana had somehow stumbled upon that very person. It had to be more than chance that had united them. She was like the Orlesian rosebush, planted in a foreign country, yet determined to bloom despite all the odds to the contrary.

"Very well, I will not turn away any help that is offered," the Warden said at last. Leliana breathed a sigh of relief. She would join with the Wardens, and do what she could to protect the land she had grown to love.

DA:O

"I am not sure that I understand," Cassandra said. Her brows were drawn close together. "Did you join the Wardens because you had a divine mission, or at the behest of Dorothea, or just because you were bored?"

Leliana did not know herself. She fiddled with the handle on her mug. "It felt like all the parts fell together. The Chantry needed someone to go with the Wardens – at least, I imagine that Dorothea would have told me to take the opportunity, once I had found it. I can't imagine that the Maker would wish the Blight on anyone, and I wanted the chance the end it. And yes, I was restless, but perhaps I was so because the Maker wanted me to leave that place."

"Bullshit," Cassandra said. She rose and began pacing. "You got bored of being in a cloister, so you left. It is as simple as that."

Leliana shook her head. She refused to believe that boredom was all that had influenced her. She had grown tired of her life in the convent, that was true. But she could have left without the need to attach herself to the Wardens. "Don't you have any faith at all?"

"I have faith in what I can see and smell and touch." Cassandra sat down on her chair.

That view left so little room for the Maker's presence. "I feel sorry for you then," Leliana said. She let out a breath of air. "I can't imagine so barren a world."

Cassandra shook her head. "And I can't imagine believing in dreams and visions or whatever else you choose to call them."

Leliana shrugged. "When the fates align, do you call it chance, or do you call it the will of something greater?" She herself did not know; but she suspected the dice thrown to judge the fate of the world were heavily weighted. "I choose the second. Some truths cannot be known. But I prefer to believe that there is something greater than myself guiding my actions. It is so lonely to assume that we are all alone."

Cassandra made a noise in the back of her throat at that, but her lips curved in a smile. "I suppose that if I were entirely without faith, I would not be here. So tell me, Leliana, what happened next with your Warden?"

Leliana took another sip of her tea before beginning the story.


	7. The Hero

"Now we get to the heart of the matter," Cassandra said. She had risen and was pacing about the small room. "The Hero of Ferelden, Solona Amell. She is the reason you have been recommended to us, no?"

Leliana shrugged. "I don't know why Mother Dorothea – sorry, the Divine Justinia – sent me to the Seekers. But yes, I would assume that it has to do with the Hero."

Cassandra shook her head, causing bits of her short, dark hair to puff out from her skull. "Have you heard that the Hero is believed to be behind these uprisings?"

Leliana heard a lot but had no desire to betray her friend. "I'm sure there've been rumors." She pressed a lock of hair that had fallen across her face behind an ear. "I mostly ignore them."

"Rumor also says that you were close." Cassandra's eyes looked through her as though she was glass. "Surely you have an opinion on this matter?"

Her relationship with Solona was something Leliana wished she could keep for herself. Those fleeting moments of joy seemed too precious to share or tarnish with politics. She gazed at her mug of tea. "I have some feelings," she said, moving the mug so that the liquid swirled about inside. "How could I not? But they are feelings, not facts. And I have not seen the Warden in nearly a decade."

Cassandra sat across from her and took her hands in her own. "I know this is hard." Her rough hands squeezed Leliana's. "But this rebellion threatens to inflame the world. We need to use what resources we have to combat the uprisings."

"She may not be the same as she was when I knew her." It was even possible that she had died. A decade could change the familiar into the unrecognizable. Leliana was old enough to have learned that lesson.

"I know," Cassandra said again, her fingers moving over Leliana's hand. "But we will use whatever help you can provide."

Leliana nodded and began her story.

DA:O

"I love these quiet nights at camp," Leliana said. She sat next to Solona and gazed into the fire.

"They are peaceful, aren't they?" Solona leaned against Leliana. "Other than when you fall asleep on me."

"Hey!" Leliana said, although she giggled a bit, as Solona was as likely to fall asleep as she was. She thought that this might be why they so often kept watch together. The hope was that at least one of them would manage to stay awake until the next shift. "It's not my fault. I can't stay awake after eating all the greasy, Ferelden food that Alistair likes to cook."

"I think they over fed us on purpose in the tower." Solona sat up and stretched. "It made it easier for the templars to have us all asleep."

"Do you miss it there? In your tower, I mean?" Solona was the first mage that Leliana had ever been close to, and she was curious about the lives they led, sequestered away from the world.

"Maker no!" Solona rose and began to pace in front of the fire. "Morrigan is right. That place is nothing more than a fancy prison." She turned to Leliana, her eyes narrowed. "I can't think of anyone else in Ferelden who is punished just for existing."

Leliana knew all of the arguments for cloistering mages but did not speak them. "It seems heartless to do to children who are so young."

"It's cruel to do to anyone." Solona's hands clenched. "Some, like Wynne, claim that the tower is a refuge. Some may even believe it, but if they do, they're nothing more than mindless sheep." She paced about the camp fire, her footsteps crackling when they crushed against the leaves on the ground. "I don't care if mages like that really are content; selling yourself for a few meals and a warm bed makes you no better than a whore. Worse, even. At least whores are free to come and go as they please."

"So you're glad you're a Warden?" Leliana asked after Solona had finished her tirade. It felt like she ought to say something.

"I guess." Solona sat down beside her on the log and leaned her head on Leliana's shoulder. "What binds me to the Wardens is what's different than what imprisoned me in the tower. They're still chains, but they chafe less."

Leliana wrapped an arm around her. "We'll get through this."

"Perhaps." Solona let her body curve into Leliana's. "Or maybe I'm fighting to protect a people who'd like to see me dead."

DA:O

"I cannot believe these sentiments!" Cassandra rose and walked back and forth across the small room. "Surely you do not share them."

Leliana had seen so much that she knew there were no absolutes. "I saw what happened in Kirkwall. Perhaps it is cruel to cage mages but it is kinder than the alternative."

"I can't imagine that any rational person would believe otherwise." Cassandra strode across the cell, her footsteps falling heavily upon the stone floor. "And yet you let the hero persist in these delusions!"

"There was little I could do to change her mind," Leliana said. She brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Besides, at the time, what a mage thought of anything was of little importance. We needed Solona to stop the Blight. Her opinion on lesser matters was irrelevant." Or so Leliana had thought, up until she'd realized what Solona and Morrigan were planning. "I agreed with her to keep her happy. It was simple, and I hadn't thought it would affect anything." It was easy enough to play a part. Far too easy. For despite everything, Leliana had grown to love the woman she followed. She'd continued to love her up until that fateful night.

DA:O

It was their last night in Redcliffe and Solona had not joined her in her bed. Leliana pulled on a robe and walked the halls, wondering why her lover chose to stay away. She found Solona in her room and was about to push open the door and ask what was wrong, when she heard Morrigan's voice, and decided that it might be prudent to listen for a little longer before announcing her presence.

"Tis you who are in danger," the witch said, sending a shiver up Leliana's spine. They were all in danger, but why was Solona in particular danger? "I have a plan you see. A way out. A loop in your hole."

From there, Morrigan went on to describe her plan – she would conceive a child with Loghain and, upon the arch-demon's death, the child would inherit the spirit of the old god. This demon would be born anew with Morrigan as his mother.

Solona remained calm throughout the conversation, as Leliana fought the urge to barge in and demand to know exactly what they were doing. "Why should I care about Loghain's life?" Solona asked. "I let him live so that he could be of use to me. He will take the final blow."

"What if he does not?" Leliana peered into the room and saw Morrigan's eyes narrow as she spoke. "Are you prepared to make that sacrifice?" Morrigan began to pace, her skirts rustling with each step. "Do you intend to die for people who hate you and fear you, who imprisoned you and would kill you if they had the chance?" Solona's shoulders sagged. "I thought not."

"I don't know that he'll agree to this," Solona said. Her pale hair was puffed out about the edges of her face, jagged and rough.

"Order him to!" Morrigan's pretty face formed a scowl. "He's bound to obey you in all things. Tell him to lie with me. I'll take care of the rest."

"I don't know that I feel comfortable ordering someone to do that," Solona said. Her face was drawn together, highlighting the lines that had been drawn by the events of the past year. "But I'll speak with him."

Leliana managed to get away from the door and into a doorway only a few seconds before Solona threw the door open and stormed out. She watched her turn the corner before she followed her, eager to see if Loghain accepted his part in this demonic pact.

DA:O

"And did he?" Cassandra asked. She paced about the room, each footstep thudding against the stone floor.

"Yes." Leliana had no more to say than that. Loghain had protested but, in the end, he had been persuaded by Solona, just as they all were. He had lain with the witch and Leliana assumed that things had gone as Morrigan had planned. The witch now had her child with the soul of an old god and was beyond their reach.

"I can't believe you would allow this to happen." Cassandra's hands were clenched into fists. "Do you have any idea what this could mean? What this creature could do?"

Leliana did not know. She doubted that Morrigan had noble intentions, but she'd never fully understood what the apostate wanted to do or why. "It was a bad decision. I did not doubt it then, I do not doubt it now. Neither Solona's life nor Loghain's was worth the risk."

"If that was your opinion, why didn't you stop her when you could?" Cassandra continued pacing, her lips pinched about her mouth as though she had eaten something bitter.

"I could not." Leliana shrugged, holding her hands open. "I was sent to spy and to interfere only if I could. But I could not. Loghain never had any interest in me – he knew that I was an Orlesian bard and distrusted me on sight. I suspect that any arguments I made against this child only would have strengthened his resolve to sire him. And my influence with Solona was ebbing by the time she made this deal. She still cared for me, I think, but not enough to risk death for our love."

"When did her feelings for you begin to diminish?" Casandra asked. She looked curious now, and Leliana was eager to move her to other conversational topics.

"It was just after we'd killed Marjolaine," Leliana said. She settled into her chair, ready to begin the next bit of her tale. "I'd asked her to help me confront her, and things didn't go according to plan."

"Do they ever with you?" Cassandra asked, a smile playing about her eyes.

"Never." But that was the beauty of being a bard; one never expected things to work out quite as easily as expected, so one had to learn to change and adapt with the fluidity of song.

DA:O

It had been foolish to admit that she was a bard to Solona, and even more foolish to ask for help. In retrospect, if Leliana had known all that would come from that fateful meeting, she would have found a way to hide her past and to deny it if it ever came to light. But ever since Marjolaine's men had attacked them, all that Leliana had been able to think about was that Marjolaine was alive and wanted her dead. If she were ever to stop worrying, she would have to confront her.

"I lied to you, you know, about why I left Orlais," Leliana said, one day in camp. "I didn't feel like talking about it then...but maybe it will affect us now. It might be something you should know." She took a breath, moving a strand of hair from her face. "I was framed – betrayed - by someone I thought I could trust. You could say it was my fault..." Leliana gave a small laugh and a shy smile. "I was supposed to deliver some sealed documents."

"You opened them, didn't you?" Solona said. A smile played over her face. "Your curiosity always gets the better of you."

Leliana would have giggled, except that this was too serious for jests. "Yes." She took Solona's hands and held those calloused palms in her own. "There were military plans in them. Marjolaine was selling state secrets to other countries. It was treason."

"Isn't that what bards do?"

"Some." Not many. "Most bards confine their work to within Orlais. I had assumed that Marjolaine did the same."

"Does this still matter?" Solona reached to brush Leliana's face with her hand. She drew in close, as if about to kiss her before Leliana drew back.

"Orlais takes a harsh view of such things. I feared that her life, and mine, would be in danger." Leliana squeezed her hand. "She said she would destroy the documents, and I believed her, until I realized that she had altered the documents to make me look like a traitor." Solona was watching her more carefully now, her warm green eyes fixed on Leliana's. It was that look of love that allowed her to continue. "I was captured and things were done to me to get me to confess. It was a tratior's punishment and all that awaited me at the end was eternity in an unmarked grave. But I was fortunate; I broke free when I found an opportunity."

"And you took refuge in the Chantry?" A smile played about Solona's lips. "I'd known you weren't the typical cloistered nun."

Leliana nodded. "My background is rather unconventional."

"So what do you intend to do now?" Solona asked. "I mean, why are you bringing this up?"

Leliana moved her thumb over Solona's hand, caressing the warm skin. "I hadn't wanted to trouble you with this, but I have heard that she is still in Ferelden and I thought..."

"You thought we could bring her to justice?" Solona smiled at that. "It would be easy enough to arrange. Where is she?"

"In Denerim." Leliana had heard rumors and thought she could find her former mistress easily enough. "If we happen to go there, I am certain we can locate her and...do something with her."

Solona shrugged. "If we're in Denerim and you can locate her, I'd be happy to pay her a visit. We can right old wrongs and all that." Her hand returned to Leliana's face. "Now where were we?"

Leliana felt her heart catch. "Thank you," she said, leaning in to kiss Solona on her lips. If they could just eliminate Marjolaine, she would have one less thing to fear. She relaxed into the other woman's embrace and let her lead her to their tent.

DA:O

Marjolaine had taken residence in a modest estate located near the market place. It was so similar to the one they had shared in Orlais that it made Leliana's heart clutch with the pain of memories.

"This is it," Leliana said to Solona. "I'm certain."

"Let's get this over with," Solona said. She motioned to Alistair and Wynne to step back before blasting the door into splinters with a ball of fire summoned from the Fade.

The people inside fared little better. Solona took little time to incinerate the guards waiting just inside and before long they were able to progress to the salon. Marjolaine sat inside, re-stringing a lute. She rose when they entered.

Leliana saw her and felt her heart constrict. She held up a hand to stop Solona from casting quite yet. She wanted the opportunity to understand, to gain some closure as to why things had worked out in the way that they had.

"Why did you do it?" Leliana asked, stepping towards her. "You framed me. You had me caught, tortured. What happened to make you hate me so?"

Marjolaine laughed. Even facing death, she was as bright and gay as she would be at a ball. "I know what you are capable of, my Leliana. I knew that you would escape and find me again. And here you are."

Solona made a noise from her place at Leliana's side. "Is this what we came for?"

"Ignore her, she's lying," Leliana said. "I know how she works."

"And I know how you work, too, my Leliana," Marjolaine said, her face lit up with amusement that had once entranced. "You were so careful, so quiet for so long that I half forgot you were still around. But then you left your convent in such a hurry. What was I to think?"

"You think I left because of you? That I still have some plans for...?" What did Marjolaine know? Leliana decided that it didn't matter. She doubted anyone knew the real truth as to why she had left.

Marjolaine turned to Solona. "If I were you, I would believe nothing she says. Not a word!" Her lips curved in a wicked smile. "She is a clever one, my Leliana. She will use you. You look at her, you see a simple girl, a friend. It is an act."

It was not an act, at least not entirely. Leliana loved Solona, believed in her religion, and cared for all the causes she advocated. "I'm not like you, Marjolaine," she said, even as she felt her breath speed.

"Oh, but you are me," Marjolaine said, raising a hand to her mouth to stifle giggles. "You cannot escape it. Do you know why you are a master manipulator? It is because you enjoy it. You cannot change or deny that."

"Can we get on with it?" Solona asked. Her voice held a note of boredom, but there was iron behind her placidity. "I don't have all day."

"I want you out of my life," Leliana said. She forced herself to relax her hands and reached for her bow. "I am not like that anymore."

Marjolaine started to laugh again, but before she could continue with what she had to say, Leliana stopped her voice with an arrow to the throat.

DA:O

"Is it true what Marjolaine said?" Solona asked, late that night in camp. "That you've been manipulating me all along? That you're not so different from her?"

Leliana shrugged. She leaned down to pick up another piece of armor to polish, so that she'd have something to distract herself with. "I wouldn't have betrayed her, no. Or you. Or anyone else. We're different at heart."

"But you're still a bard," Solona said. She sat beside Leliana. "You can try to deny what you are, but there's no going back."

Leliana focused her attention entirely on the gauntlet. "I've changed," she said, swiping the leather with grease.

"People don't change." Solona ran a hand over her back. "They can't change, I think. Not like that." She leaned in close enough that Leliana could feel her breath whisper across her ear. "But if you want to know the truth, I like you better this way."

Leliana dropped her rag. "In what way?"

"As a bard." Solona giggled, her voice high and musical in the crisp night air. "I got so tired of the sanctimonious Chantry sister. It was like having a second Wynne around all the time!"

Leliana focused on the fire, on the flames that consumed and blackened everything they were fed. "You prefer me as a bard? As someone who lies and deceives and murders?"

"We all do a lot of killing around here," Solona said. Leliana felt a warm pressure against her shoulder, and turned to see that the mage was leaning against her. "I think you should be true to yourself, to whatever you actually are."

"I'm not sure that I like that person." All the same, Leliana wrapped an arm around Solona, glad to have the warmth of her lover against her.

Solona made a contented sound in the back of her throat. "Well, I like her perfectly well."

DA:O

"She didn't though, not really," Leliana said, gazing down at her tea. She glanced up to see that Cassandra was sitting across from her, her dark eyes fixed on Leliana's face. "I suppose she found me more fun and exciting as a bard than as a Chantry sister, but she stopped trusting me." Leliana suspected that Solona wondered why she had left the Chantry every bit as much as Marjolaine had. "I lost most of the little influence I'd had once she learned of my past."

"You still could have stopped her." Cassandra's lips pinched together. "You should have stopped her." She paced the hall. "Perhaps she would have done the ritual no matter what you said or did. I will grant that fear can drive many unwise decisions. But even if you allowed her that, you should have been able to find some way to make her see reason."

"About what?" Leliana asked. There were so many things she and Solona had disagreed on.

"You should have kept her from demanding that the mages be set free." Cassandra's hands tightened into fists. "That was what started this. Had Ferelden not set that precedent-"

"Anora would have given Solona anything she asked for, after she saved Ferelden," Leliana said. She took a sip of her tea. It was cooling in the chill that permeated the room. "Freeing the mages cost Anora nothing. And Anora, like her father, has no qualms about using any means available to achieve her ends." In this, she was much like her rival, the Empress Celene. Leliana suspected that the two might like each other, if they could ever get along. "Magic is powerful, too powerful to be put in the hands of mere mortals. I agree with you and the Chantry on this matter. But Anora is more than willing to use whatever help she can find in defending her kingdom from Orlais."

Cassandra's posture stiffened. "You know they will order an Exaulted March," she said. "There will be a war. Thousands may die..."

Thousands had already died as the rebellion that had started in Kirkwall spread. And thousands more would die when the mages found shelter in Ferelden and the Chantry moved against them. "I wish there was a way to stop it," Leliana said. She drew a breath, inhaling the fragrant smoke of the incense. "I think there might be. It is why Mother – I mean, the Divine Justinia, recommended me to you."

"Is that so?" Cassandra asked. One of her eyebrows quirked upwards.

"Yes," Leliana said. "You see, she has a plan." She settled back in her chair, and prepared to explain her plan to Cassandra.


	8. The Seeker

"Not long after the Archdemon was defeated, I received summons from the Divine Justinia," Leliana said. The letter had been brought on one of the first caravans to cross into Ferelden after the Blight and Leliana had known immediately that she could not ignore it. She had given what excuses she could and had slipped away before she could be missed. Sometimes she wondered if Solona even noticed her absence. "She asked me to join her in Val Royeaux."

"And once you arrived...?" Cassandra poured herself another cup of tea.

"She asked me about my travels and the time I spent with the Warden." Leliana took the pot from Cassandra and refilled her own glass. "I told her what I could and agreed to stay when she asked. It was nice to return to Val Royeaux." She had fallen in love once again with her city, traveling the wide boulevards and gazing in awe at the spires of the Grand Cathedral.

"I would imagine you had other offers," Cassandra said. She tilted her head to the side. "Why the Chantry?"

"I did." Anora had invited her to stay in court and Celene had extended a similar offer. "But I knew I could do more good within the Church." It seemed petty to return to the affairs of men after being given the responsibility of saving the world.

Cassandra laughed at this. "I find it hard to believe you'd give up a life of luxury to serve."

"Why?" Leliana asked. "Didn't you do the same?" From what she could recall, Cassandra was of the royal line of Nevarra. Even if she was not, Leliana was hardly the first person to trade luxury for a more meaningful life. Cassandra was silent for several seconds before Leliana shrugged and said, "Besides, I like the adventure."

"I could believe that of you," Cassandra said with a smile. She sipped from her mug. "Although that's not important. What I need to know are your plans for the war."

It was why she had been called here in the beginning and it was how this conversation would end. Leliana decided to bring her story to a complete circle. There was only one arc missing. "Before I do," she took another sip of her tea, "I will need to tell you about how I met Marian Hawke."

Cassandra shrugged, causing her shirt to shift over her shoulders. She readjusted the neckline. "I have time."

Leliana met her eyes and began her tale.

DA:O

The Divine Justinia called into her office late one afternoon. Leliana waited for leave to sit, examining the papers on her desk.

"I am sure you have heard of the Kirkwall situation," Justinia said, once they had finished their morning prayers.

Leliana nodded. The common rumor was that the templars were cracking down on the mages and were about to ask for the Rite of Annulment. But Leliana had learned that the mages were planning their own rebellion from rumors whispered late at night.

"We are concerned that there might be war." Justinia pursed her lips. "I want Elthina removed from Kirkwall and brought to safety. I have sent word to evacuate, but she has ignored me. Perhaps you will be more persuasive."

"Is that all?" It seemed easy enough to make the cleric move, one way or another.

Justinia shook her head. "It is all you are to do. But I also need you to watch and listen. There are three of especial interest to me in Kirkwall." She slid an envelope to Leliana. She opened it and withdrew a paper that listed three names: Meredith Stannard, Orsino, and Marian Hawke. "You are to get as close to them as you can and to report back anything you learn. Understand?"

"Yes."

Justina made the sign of Andraste above Leliana's hand. "The Maker watch over you, child."

He would, as He always did. Leliana accepted the blessing and rose to pack and find passage to Kirkwall.

DA:O

"Out of those three, none remains." Cassandra paced the hall, her steps brisk.

"Marian Hawke might have survived." Leliana placed her mug on the worn wood of her Cassandra's stool. Meredith and Orsino had been killed in the civil war". It was good riddance to both, from her point of view. Orisino was suspected of practicing blood magic and Meredith was rumored to have gone insane. She had likely been in the last stages of lyrium madness when the city had erupted in violence. "We believe the Champion escaped Kirkwall."

"She was responsible for the war, was she not?" Cassandra drew close, her dark eyes meeting Leliana's.

"I'm not sure," Leliana said. She doubted there was ever a single person responsible for much of anything.

"Tell me what you know about her," Cassandra said. She handed Leliana's cup back to her before settling on her stool and waiting for the tale to begin yet again.

DA:O

Leliana paced about the Viscount's Keep, examining the damage left by the qunari. She had come here after failing to convince Elthina to leave the city. The fool thought she knew the Maker's wishes better than did the Divine. It was frustrating, but Leliana couldn't think of any easy solutions. Tempting as it was, kidnapping a Grand Cleric was likely to cause more problems than leaving her to die.

She was considering just how irritated she was at Elthina's reluctance when a sound jolted her from her reverie. Leliana raced downstairs and saw a small party battling a coterie of apostates. She had only just managed to get a feel for the situation when she hurled herself into the action, taking out a mage before he could cast. Almost as soon as the fight began, it ended and she sheathed her daggers once more.

Leliana approached the party. She recognized several of them from their descriptions. Marian most resembled her cousin about the eyes. The two shared a glacial gaze. Leliana remembered Isabela from a meeting years in the past, and Varric and Sebastian were mostly as rumors painted them. "Are you Sister Nightingale?" Marian asked.

"Yes." Leliana had assumed that identity for this mission and would take on a new one soon enough. "The Divine asked me to investigate the events here in Kirkwall."

They spoke for only a little as to what the Divine had requested and Marian's plans as to how Marian would execute that request. It was not as much as Leliana would have hoped for, but it was some promise that Marian was not entirely opposed to the goals of the Chantry.

DA:O

"I am assuming you did more than talk for a few minutes," Cassandra said, her voice sharp.

"Of course." Leliana had memorized the names and faces of Marian's companions, studied the styles in which they dressed and subtly mimicked their movements. "I stayed in Kirkwall for nearly a month and learned as much as I could about everyone involved. I waited as long as I could." She shifted her weight so that she could sit more comfortably. "I'm sure you know what happened after I left."

Cassandra nodded. "Elthina was murdered."

"Yes." Leliana regretted her death, but did not mourn her. She had been given the chance to save herself and had refused it. "So did many others."

"So will many others," Cassandra said. She rose and stretched. "I'm assuming this is what you and the Divine wish to prevent?"

"Yes."

"You claimed to have a plan." There was a trace of hope in Cassandra's eyes, a kind of innocence that Leliana hated to destroy.

"It's not much of one." Dorothea had said as much, but Leliana had begged her to let her try. In the end, Dorothea had consented. She had given her blessing and a had written Leliana a letter asking for her admittance to the Seekers. That ancient organization held knowledge that was kept hidden even from the Divine. It seemed possible that they could do something about this war; she had hoped that together they could do what she alone could not.

"Tell me what it is." Cassandra's voice was gentle. She walked to the brassier in the corner and added a few drops of resin.

Leliana took a sip of her tea. "I never could determine Marian Hawke's loyalties. If her beliefs are aligned with ours, she would be a valuable ally. She has helped the Chantry in the past. She might consider doing so in the future."

"You said she disappeared," Cassandra said.

Leliana shrugged. "Some of her companions remain. Sebastian is supposedly within the Free Marches and Varric still lives in Kirkwall. One of them might know where Marian has gone or where her loyalties lie."

Cassandra nodded. "I can find one and question him."

"I would advise that," Leliana said. "Beyond that, there are others. It has been nearly a decade since I knew Solona – she may have changed her opinions on a great many things since we parted. It is rumored that Anora spared Alistair's life. It is possible that he could challenge her power and restore Ferelden to Chantry control." She stood and shifted her shoulders. It was getting late and the chill had stiffened her body. "Even getting one of them to align his or her goals with ours might be enough to make the mages reconsider If they know they are without a powerful ally..." She shrugged. Alternately, if opinion turned enough against the Chantry, they too much be willing to negotiate a peace. She hadn't mentioned that possibility to Dorothea.

"It's not much." Cassandra's brows pulled close together and little lines formed across her forehead.

"It's not." Leliana ran a hand through her hair. "Nothing ever is. But it's our best hope for Thedas."

Cassandra sighed. "I suppose so." She sank into her chair. "I assume that you will try to find Solona and Alistair?"

Leliana was not eager to be reunited with either, particularly her ex-lover. But she would play her part as well in this as she had in any other quest. "Yes. Of course."

"I will try to find Sebastian and Varric, then." Cassandra squared off her shoulders as though preparing for a duel. "Unless you have another suggestion."

"None that will make a difference."

Cassandra rose and extended a hand to Leliana, helping her to rise from her chair. The two set out across the courtyard of the monastery, watching the first streaks of pink touch the sky and talking of trivialities. They would refine their plan tomorrow, when the sun rose to greet them, signaling the birth of a new day.


End file.
